Doors Open From Both Sides
by LovelyStrumpet
Summary: What if Loki DIDN'T throw Tony out of the window, and decided to have a chat instead? Beginning with the 'Performance Issues' scene in the Avengers and haring off at my own AU tangent. Narrative/dialogue/angst heavy. Told mostly from Tony's POV with occasional Loki interjections. Pre-slash, but maybe developing into FrostIron if I ever overcome my inability to write said slash!
1. Chapter 1

**Doors Open From Both Sides**.

_Tony/Loki. This fic begins with the 'Performance Issues' scene in Avengers and is hopefully soon going to develop into pure FrostIron fabulousness. Loki can't understand why Tony isn't susceptible to his mind control trick, and instead of throwing him out of the window, demands an explanation. Cue lots of dialogue/character development/description/angst, MAYBE culminating in a RELATIONSHIP! Ooh._

As you can see, I've taken some liberties with the setting – yes, Tony and Loki are having a version of 'THAT' conversation in the movie, but it's happening a little later now, the battle has already begun. Tony finds himself face to face with Loki after originally entering Stark Tower to pick up his suit.

This is the first fic I've written for about…..9 years, and I have no great master plan in mind, just going to go with it and let the muses do their job, if they'll oblige… I can imagine I'll be absolutely horrendous at writing smut, so forgive me for the crap quality before we even get there…please? This is just an experiment really, enjoying the writing for writings sake.

Any comments or reviews will be MOST welcome, and I will love you forever and squish you and make you endless cups of tea. Through the internet. And obviously try and make the upcoming chapters as amazing as I possibly can. Seriously though, if anyone reads this and likes it at all, I will be SO happy! (^.^)_  
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**Chapter 1. Performance Issues.**

The noises of the battle were heavily muted by the thick plasma glass panels separating the penthouse of Stark Tower from the outside world, and were it not for the billowing clouds of ash and fire, multitude of Chitauri sleds flying past at breakneck speed and gaping hole torn into the sky that was sending pulsating waves of light and air turbulence over Manhattan, you could be forgiven in thinking that today was just another Tuesday. Just another normal, average, utterly ordinary Tuesday. A Tuesday which found Tony Stark leaning casually against the bar (_his_ bar) pouring a measured amount of Scotch into a (rather too large) glass from a (rather too expensive) decanter, casually dressed in combats and a vintage Black Sabbath t-shirt and with the air of a person completely in control and at ease. The amber liquid sloshed over the ice and Tony inhaled it's warm, heady scent, smoky and rich. Taking a sip, he let the drink spike in his throat, burning on it's way down to his stomach.

Nothing was out of place.

Nothing appeared to indicate a full scale intergalactic war was going on not 30 feet from where Tony stood.

Nothing at all, except the 6ft tall demi-god loitering by the window, smirk upon his mouth, wild and triumphant look sparking in his eyes, dressed in more leather than you'd find in your average Texan tanner and clutching a sceptre that would have looked imposing enough without the glowing ball of crackling energy rippling at it's head, throbbing with the thrill of danger and emitting a low humming sound.

Of all the guests Tony Stark had entertained in his private quarters, this guy was the least welcome. At least in a sense. If he was in here, Tony reasoned quickly, he wasn't out there, killing people. Citizens. His friends. The other Avengers. If he was in here, the only immediate danger he posed was to Tony himself. And seen as Tony had absolutely no intention of letting Loki harm him, his home, or his team - heck, or even his _world _any more than he already had_– _Tony was definitely of the opinion that his situation, however bizarre and dangerous, was better than a lot of alternatives. A hell of a lot of alternatives. This quick confidence, direct, (if rash) reasoning, egoistical impudence and assured determination with which Tony Stark dove into almost every situation made him the perfect person (in his own opinion of course) for Loki to pick a one on one fight with. Or attempt to. Tony was already very clear in his mind that he was going to be the one doing the threatening. He took a second stiffening gulp of Scotch, plastered a carefully controlled, cool look on his face with only the slightest hint of a smirk to match Loki's, and strode out from behind the bar.

Loki turned round from surveying the chaos outside, the chaos he had started. With malice and amusement dancing in the reflection of his eyes, he faced Tony.

'What have I to fear?' His voice was silky smooth, antagonising, bursting with premature victory.

Tony's jaw clenched and he longed to punch the smug look off his opponents face. However, he didn't have the suit, and besides his plan was different. Loki, God of Mischief, lie-smith. The silver tongue. Tony had no hope of physically overpowering Loki when only dressed in his own skin, but in terms of his own tongue, however, his own wit and intellect – those he was confident were an even match. He fixed his gaze upon Loki, and adopted a casual, matter of fact tone, as if offering a suggestion of what Loki could eat for dinner as opposed to his downfall.

'The Avengers' he said, with a small shrug.

Loki's eyes narrowed, and the shadow of a questioning glace settled on his face.

'It's what we call ourselves' Tony explained, still in that carefully monitored, throwaway tone. 'Sort of like a team. 'Earths mightiest heroes' type of thing'.

At this, Loki snapped back to his favoured smirk. Moving towards Tony, his voice took on a measure of sardonic delight. ''Yes' he almost hissed, 'I've met them'.

Tony matched Loki's smirk and nodded his acquiescence. 'Yeah…' he took another sip of Scotch. 'Let's do a quick headcount here. Your brother, the demi-god –'

At the mention of Thor, Loki pursed his lips and gave a mini shudder; turning his gaze back to the chaos outside and gripping the sceptre more forcefully. His reaction didn't go unnoticed by Tony. Whilst Loki's eyes were averted, he reached for his connective bracelets nearby without breaking his speech, aware that Thor's name had potentially sparked off another moment of uncontrollable rage in his younger brother. He hadn't planned on using the suit, but then again, one couldn't have too many Plan B's when your opponent was Loki Laufeyson.

' – a supersoldier, living legend who kind of lives up to the legend, a man with _breathtaking_ anger management issues, a couple of master assassins, and YOU –' Tony raised the inflection of his recounting, and pointed straight at Loki, who by now had turned back to surveying Tony, affront and anger replaced once more by that smug smirk – 'you've managed to piss off every single one of them'.

At his words, Loki's grin widened, and he took another step forward. Shooting a wink at Tony (and boy, did that sassy little shit get on Tony's nerves just then) he spoke softly, clearly revelling in the success of his powers of manipulation. 'That was the plan'.

'Not a great plan'. Tony hit back. His anger, and (although he would barely admit it to himself) his unease was growing. Loki was deranged, dangerous, mad as a box of cats, as Banner had so eloquently put it back on the helicarrier. Every minute felt like the countdown to an atomic bomb detonation. Tony knew his only power was his words, he had to keep talking, to keep Loki talking, keep him from doing something which Tony, minus his suit, could never hope to counteract. Making sure his voice remained steady, unworried, breezy even, he continued 'When they come, and they will, they'll come for you'.

OK, a threat. A threat masked in soft, overly assured words, but a threat all the same. Tony wondered whether he had made a bad call. Luckily the affection and belief Tony had in his fellow Avengers was able to seamlessly transfer itself to his voice, so even if he wasn't altogether confident in his plan, he knew he sounded it. Loki was a cocky little shit, but Tony had never been beaten at that game, before, and he fancied his chances even against the God of Lies.

Loki recognised the threat at once and his face changed accordingly. Losing the grin, his eyes and voice took on an ice like quality.

'I have an army' he spat.

Dodging the shards of venom in Loki's words, Tony's reply sounded positively cheery.

'We have a hulk'.

'Oh, but I thought the beast had wandered off?' Loki's smooth, teasing tone, had returned, causing Tony's hackles to rise.

'You're missing the point'. Tony could feel his impatience start to show in his voice. Abandoning all attempts at a clever, witty retort, he instead chose to hit Loki with pleas. Pleas of sorts, masquerading as mere discussion. If he couldn't directly threaten Loki, he had to try and make Loki see reason. He tried not to think of the word that came with that thought. Desperation. No. All was not lost. They had barely exchanged 10 sentences. Loki was not going to win this one.

'There is no throne' he rushed. 'There is _no_ version of this where you come out on top. _Maybe_ your army wins, _maybe_ it's too much for us, but it's all on you. Because if we can't protect the Earth, you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it'.

Tony kept his gaze steady, willing the forced conviction in his voice to penetrate whatever the hell it was that was going round Loki's head. Loki seemed agitated, fiddling at the sceptre, stepping from one foot to the other. Seemingly coming to a decision in his mind, that grin broke onto his face again, and his eyes narrowed with vindication. He stepped even closer towards Tony, so there was only a few feet of air remaining between them. Focusing his startling blue eyes on Tony's gaze, he lowered his voice further than before, and brought the sceptre up to Tony's chest level, blade pointing straight at the arc reactor in the centre.

'And how will your friends have time to spare to fight me, when they're so busy fighting you?' Loki's voice was almost breathy, excited, impatient. Tony had a split second of panic, frozen to the spot by the power radiated by both Loki and the sceptre, fearful of making any sudden movement, before Loki grabbed his upper arm in a vice like grip. Painfully aware of the shock of cold emanating from the god's fingers, Tony opened his mouth to protest – shout – anything, he hadn't quite decided yet – when Loki brought the tip of the sceptre down upon the arc reactor, bright blue light pulsating down the length of it, wisps of energy snaking their way around Tony's torso, that hum of power meeting the low, barely audible drone of the arc reactor itself. Tony had barely any time to wonder what the fuck would happen now - he had heard of Loki controlling people with his sceptre-to-the-heart trick, and seen as _his _heart was protected from fatal shards of metal threatening to penetrate at any minute by a magnetic power source plugged into his chest, he doubted that adding pure energy, magic and evil intention was ever going to have a good result – before the wisps curled away like smoke, the humming stopped, and Loki released his arm as if he had been burned, shock, confusion and anger written all over his face. He let the sceptre fall back to his side and quick as a flash reached out for Tony again, this time grabbing him by the neck and pulling him forward painfully, so that Tony practically crashed into his shoulder.

'This usually works' he snarled into Tony's ear through gritted teeth. 'Man of Iron, you tell me – I could sense it – you have heart – but _what more_ – what _magic_ lives in your chest – _what denies my power so_?'

Tony could barely breathe, Loki's hands were pressing down harder and harder into his throat, he'd lost his balance when Loki yanked him towards him, and his mind was whirling with what had just happened – or not happened, and this, apparently, given Loki's reaction, was the crucial point. The only point that Tony had left. His curveball, as it were, his final chance. Loki had lost control- well no, technically speaking, he just hadn't been able to gain it – and for Tony to have any hope of surviving the god's anger, he knew he had to play on this unexpected confusion. Pique the Asgardians curiosity enough to stall him from using his brute strength or any alternative magic shit to turn Tony into a pile of pulp. Struggling for breath, Tony choked out the first words that came into his head.

'Performance- issues – you – know – _cough_ - one out of five- not bad- _cough_ – I can't- if you'd just –' His knees crippled and his vision blurred, his words were cut off and replaced by shallow gasping.

Seriously, he thought as he nearly passed out. After all that. Sarcasm. His life was at stake, and his according to his brain, his fight or flight response was to try and get witty with the God of Lies, no less. An extremely pissed off, murderous, batshit crazy God of Lies with superhuman strength and a magic stick. If there was a single time when Tony Stark wished his huge mouth and even huger ego would piss the fuck off when he was trying to talk, it was now.

By the way Loki tightened his already impossibly solid grip upon his throat and practically spat pure rage into Tony's face, dragging the smaller man to his feet again, he wasn't impressed with Tony's choice of words either.

Fuck.

**Not sure how frequent updates will be, relying on those pesky muses as I said above…aiming for a chapter every other day though, until it's done – and no, I have no idea when that might be either!**

Again, any reviews are SO SO WELCOME 


	2. Chapter 2

_Ok, definitely got a bit overexcited about this and wrote a 4000 word long Chapter 2, which was just ridiculous – so I chopped it into two parts, hence why this update might seem a little short/a little bit of a 'filler'! On the plus side though, I'm working on editing the remainder right now, so the second part – which is now Chapter 3 – should also be posted very very soon!_

I'm seriously overwhelmed with the responses so far, thank you SO MUCH for reading/favouriting/commenting, and I hope you continue to enjoy it! It might seem a bit slow going, but that's probably because it's taking me a while to find my writing feet and map out a plot, and I'm trying to put of any terrifying slash/semi slash as long as I can! =P

Any suggestions welcome!

**Chapter 2. Egos and Icicles**

Tony could see only black. Everything was black. Everything felt sort of…fuzzy, as if the black stuff was pressing into his head, his eyes, his ears, his insides. His throat felt like it had some of the black fuzzy thing stuffed down it, and his neck pulsated as if it had its own heartbeat. Tony had the vaguest sensation of being horizontal, before he realised that thinking this and feeling this meant he _could_ think and feel, he was alive, he was conscious.

And he had his eyes shut.

Ah. That explained the black.

Keeping still, he slowly prised one eye open, allowing the daylight fanning round his penthouse suite of Stark Tower to hit him with the force of a laser beam. Squeezing his eyes shut again before blinking a dozen times, he finally opened them both, raising himself to a sitting position. (Ah. He _was _in fact horizontal, then.)

Attempting a raw sort of cough which needled painfully at his throat, he drew his hand up to his neck to inspect the source of the throbbing. Immediately, his mind flashed with his last memories before losing conciousness – there was himself, a hand around his neck, a cold, vice like hand, an angry whisper in his ear and an even angrier face only inches from his own.

_Loki_.

Tony sat up properly then, alert, spinning round in his seat to locate the God of Mischief. Before he had chance to focus his eyes, he felt that same vice like hand clamp around his shoulder and pull him 180', so he was once again face to face with his adversary. Well, face to stomach to be more accurate, given that Loki was standing directly behind the sofa Tony was now twisted onto.

'Weak mortal' Loki hissed, spinning Tony's torso round entirely and grabbing his other shoulder just as tightly in his remaining hand, 'You are nothing without your suit of iron, the mere strength in my _hand_ was able to overcome your pathetic body'.

'Less of the pathetic, if you'd be so kind – it takes hard work to reach this physique' Tony croaked hoarsely, before remembering what exactly had brought his choking punishment upon him, and immediately regretting his choice of tone. Thankfully this time however, Loki merely sneered, and threw Tony away from him so he crash landed off the sofa and onto the floor.

'Oh? Does the infamous Tony Stark, the – what was it, 'genius, billionaire, playboy philanthropist' take offence at my words?' Tony had no idea how Loki had heard his boast in Banners laboratory on the helicarrier, and the words sounded ridiculous coming from his mouth – ridiculous and almost painful, for meant in partial jest even as they were, Loki managed to reduce them to nothing more than cringe-worthy. He cast around his mind for a comeback, his mouth working furiously but silently - something, _anything – _Jesus, what was _wrong_ with him, he was usually the sharpest tool in the box, with the quickest and most impressive vernacular.

'Pathetic' sneered Loki again, coming around the back of the sofa and standing over Tony. He'd picked up his sceptre, and the glowing blue ball of energy at the tip reflected in his already too-blue eyes, investing them with a terrifying and mesmerizing glitter. An flame of ice, thought Tony, the embodiment of Loki himself. Icy in nature and temperament; like fire in terms of danger and unpredictability. Both powerful, both untameable, opposing elements – and both beautiful.

Then - _Fuck_, thought Tony as he realised what he'd just thought. Ice? Fire? _BEAUTIFUL_? What the fuck was his brain playing at?

'Stark, you're going to have to remember how to talk. I want answers, and I'm not about to wait till you've finished pretending to be a goldfish to get them'. Loki's voice was dangerously quiet, smooth and silky, leaving Tony in no doubt that he was pissed off. Very pissed off. In a major way.

Tony thought he could do with some answers himself. Like why he wasn't dead, why he wasn't at least semi-fatally injured, why Loki was still in here with him instead of out there ripping the shit out Earth with his disgusting armoured minions, why the fuck he'd just compared Loki to an attractive icicle –

'STARK.'

Loki had balanced the pointy end of the sceptre at the base of Tony's throat, and was looking thunderous. Tony dragged his mind back from its 90 mile an hour confused wanderings and attempted a placid grin, one intended to infuriate the God of Mischief even more.

'I don't think things worked out too well the last time you tried to wave your magic wand at me' he said conversationally, wriggling out from under the sceptre and shuffling himself into a standing position. With a screech of pure rage, Loki started towards him again, but Tony neatly sidestepped the god and held his hands up in mock surrender.

'Woah there, reindeer games. You want answers, you gotta ask me questions. We gotta have a _conversation_. And last time I checked, the dead weren't all that up for dinner party style schmoozing'.

Tony's confidence was returning at breakneck speed; from the little Loki had said and the hazy memory that had returned to him, he knew Loki wasn't about to attempt a homicide right there and then, at least not until he had interrogated him. Choosing not to think of the many ways in which Loki could do this, most of which involved some form of torture, Tony fully intended to be his usual narcissistic, audacious, brilliant self. Loki was now the one at a disadvantage, Loki now wanted answers, because Loki had indentified a weakness in himself, in his magic, in his plan.

Loki, impossibly powerful God of Mischief. Loki, hell bent on the destruction of the entire world. Loki, pacing around Tony's penthouse suite like a power crazed hungry animal. Loki, all the way from who the hell knows _what _godforsaken corner of the universe – Loki, who now had a defect.

And that defect, thought Tony, is me. My genius. My technology. My science, outwitting centuries – _millennia_ – of ancient magic. It was dizzying.

And, of course, entirely unsurprising. If there was ever a man who didn't need an ego boost, it was Tony Stark – and Loki had just given him the biggest one imaginable.

Tony tried only to think of the advantage this surge of confidence would bring to him; how he could manipulate this situation, how he was now in charge, how he could outwit Loki and stay alive long enough to escape without having to tell him a single thing, how he could get into his suit without Loki suspecting any foul play, how he could alert the rest of the Avengers.

How he appeared to be the only person they had – save for Thor and Dr Banner – that was a match for Loki, a true match. How exactly his arc reactor and Loki's magic were related.

Watching Loki shake with the effort of restraining himself from murdering Tony on the spot, he tried to ignore that tiny, almost imperceptible frisson running around his whole body that had accompanied that last train of thought.


	3. Chapter 3

_Here we go, the second 'half' of what was originally chapter 2…..again, thank you all so much for staying with this story, and for all of your feedback! This section was a moody little arse to edit, hence why I didn't get it up last night after all, so if anyone spies any glaring issues, please let me know!_

Also: It was pointed out that I was only using single apostrophes for speech, whereas I really should have been using quotation marks – rookie mistake! I've fixed this now, sorry for any confusion anyone else might have experienced!

_Oh, and I should probably start adding disclaimers: These characters are not mine, nor are any props mentioned, or Stark Tower. _

**Chapter 3. Interrogation.**

Outside, the battle was raging on. Chitauri monsters were swooping through the air at an alarming rate, admittedly followed closely by the elegant and deadly traction of one of the Hawk's infamous arrows, yet still hell bent on annihilating everything in sight. The explosions were less noticeable, but only due to the fact that there was now more rubble and more fire than building, or at least this was the case at the angle Tony could see. He was backed into a corner of the penthouse, perched on a bar stool, and only a metre away from the imposing figure in leather that cut an impressive view against the sleek slate tiles on the wall behind where he was standing.

Tony said as much.

''Asgardian Splash – I like it. Very regal. Might have to get Pepper to organise a paint job in here''. He knew he was on very thin ground, knew that Loki was probably one burst vein in his temple away from flattening the entirety of Stark Tower, with Tony in it. However, this is what Tony thrived on, this is what made him tick – always getting the last word, the cleverest word. Always outsmarting his opponent. Always having the funniest joke, the driest humour. Always winning the verbal war. He got a kick out of tantalizing his _teammates_ with his intelligence for Christ's sake; he sure as hell was going to enjoy bartering with Loki.

Besides, his life probably depended on it. Tony was nothing if not perceptive, and he knew where the lines lay. He crossed them, yes, but he crossed them on his own terms. He knew how far to push. He knew how to size up his competition. With Loki, it was like sparring with a loaded missile. He could blow at any time. He was the perfect adversary; matching Tony (loathe as he was to admit it) in perspicacity, wit and pride. Tony had known exactly what he was dealing with ever since he correctly guessed that Loki would use Stark Tower as his base in about 5 seconds flat. He could have been describing himself back then, and he could pretty much be sitting opposite himself now. You know. A few centuries, anger management issues, tortured past events and couple of inches aside.

Tortured past events.

There it was, the other side to Loki that (as Tony was acutely aware) cemented their similarities even further, but this thought was something that he pushed out immediately, before he could properly acknowledge it or what it might mean.

''I am not playing games with you, crude and impertinent mortal'' Loki snarled, his whole face filling with loathing and impatience.

''So it's 'Stark' or 'Mortal' is it''? Tony couldn't help himself, the words just spilled out of him, ready made from years of relying on his quick thinking brain and easy grasp of humour. ''You know, if we're getting into etymology here, I could use a little help with you. Your family tree is more dysfunctional than your attempt to attack the planet''.

Loki was physically shaking with anger, and, if it were possible, even paler than before. His jet black hair looked positively alarming against his near translucent skin; his eyes were aflame with hatred and shining with – were those _tears?_

Crossing the short distance between the two men and bending so his face was once again mere millimetres away from Tony's, and with a voice so quiet and full of malice it was barely discernible, Loki whispered ''You will pay for that, Man of Iron. You think yourself superior to me, you dare make jibes about my parents, my family, my past – you – you who have no family, no father, no loyalties – _you_ – betrayed by your friends, weakest of your comrades, YOU, WHO IS NOT WORTHY!''

Loki's voice rose to a screech at this last sentence, and Tony was deafened by the force of his words, and not just the words themselves – the emotions in them too, the raw pain and anger and hurt of Loki's admission, forced out and so full of misery and anguish, crawling down Tony's ear into his head, his heart, his very soul. He knew Loki was talking about him, and that hurt enough – but he also knew instantly that most of the things Loki had said, the things he'd just hurled at Tony – they were true of himself too; Tony's previous jibe had reached the centre of all Loki's bitterness and agony with as much accuracy as Hawkeye's arrows still slicing through the air outside.

Loki stepped backwards, eyes still shining, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. His lips were shaking, and the hand holding his sceptre was jerking precariously. If it were possible, he looked madder than ever, yet at the same time – and for the first time - Tony could detect a hint of vulnerability about him, vulnerability that was different from when he first discovered the unknown power of Tony's arc reactor. Not that he knew it was an arc reactor; Loki had correctly identified that the thing was not human, but his ignorance of it's true nature was the reason Tony was still here right now, alive, breathing and in ownership of his own mind. His own mind that could now detect a hint of Loki as Thor must have once known him, back when he was still a son of Odin in Asgard, and the youngest child, quieter, more studious, physically weaker and second always to Thor – second always to Asgardians, now, since discovering his true heritage.

This glimpse into how shattered Loki appeared underneath all that leather and that silver tongue unnerved Tony, he had no experience in dealing with broken people. _Except himself_. He had only ever mended himself, physically and mentally, and that had taken long enough and ripped his soul apart enough. He wasn't sure what a broken Loki would entail, what he would do, who he would become – but he was sure it wouldn't be someone who he could verbally spar against. And for now, that was all Tony had. It was his only weapon, familiar, safe. _Well, not safe. This was Loki after all_. But it was a hell of a lot safer than trying to second guess a crazy, vengeful, schizophrenic god with daddy issues. Especially when he had enough daddy issues himself to turn him just as crazy, vengeful and (probably) schizophrenic to boot.

''Yes, correct. All correct. 7 out of 7. Excellent cognitive recognition skills –maybe you should train as a psychotherapist'' Tony retorted in a friendly, easy voice that just about managed to hide his minor internal upheaval. ''Although – two points I'd like to discuss further. The superiority thing. I don't know how, and I don't know why, but your magic can't touch my little toy, and for that I am sincerely grateful. However, this thing takes up approximately 5% of my body mass, and I wouldn't like to take any chances with the spells you could whip up for the rest of it''.

Loki's face was slowly returning to a more 'normal' pallor, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on Tony still perched on his stool.

''Second thing' Tony continued, glad that they seemed to be getting back to an atmosphere that wasn't charged with bone crushing awkwardness ''the arc reactor itself. You speak of it with derision, yet this is why you're up here, pinning me down and engaging me in polite conversation instead of running around out there in the playground with your friends. You don't know what it is, what it does, and why your magic seems to hate its guts. So I guess if you want to know, you'll have to lay back on the provocations. Terribly irksome. They tend to tire one out when one has already screamed them inside ones own head for years''.

Oops. What. What was _that_. Tony had had no intention at all of saying that last line. It had just popped out. Heck, was he sat here _whining _to Loki? Was he really attempting to extract pity from the god? Or was he just pitying himself? That was not his plan at all. Whatever 'it' was, and whatever it thought it was doing, Tony admonished himself, it could get right back inside his head and stay there. He was in control here. He wasn't going to spout off to Loki. He wasn't going to tell Loki ANYTHING. If Loki wanted to air his grievances that was up to him, but he could scream and stamp on his own. Tony's trump card was the secrets of his arc reactor, and keeping it from the god required measured, calculating thought, not angsty teenage word vomits. _For fucks sake, Tony, get a fucking grip. _

Loki was watching him with a peculiar expression on his face, and Tony was seized by the possibility that Loki had read his mind. Hurrying forwards, Tony went on ''You know, you've already lost the war. Look around you, look outside. Your army may be powerful, but they have destroyed that which you hoped to rule. You really think anyone who's left will want the guy in charge of decimating their whole livelihoods as king? And it's not just here you have to win over. The world is big. I don't know if anyone's ever explained to you the way rule and governments and power work on Earth, but there isn't just one big guy who calls the shots''. _Hey, if there was, my nomination will have gone the top of the list years ago._ ''So yeah. There's no hope for you. And you know it. And you know why. There never was from the start. Coulson was right. _You lack conviction_. And that's why you're in here, desperate to work out _my_ bit of hocus-pocus, because it's another thing that exposes your weakness. But unlike out there, there's only me to beat, as opposed to a whole team of – well, versions of me – and your own flawed plan''.

Tony sat back, pretty satisfied with his logic. At this rate, he was most definitely holding his own, and if Loki continued to flip out every 5 seconds like he'd been demonstrating so far, Tony had this 'interrogation' in the bag. (OK, he might be overly reliant on his belief that Loki wouldn't kill him until he had what he wanted, but that was fine). As long as he managed to keep himself in check of course. He was almost 'done a Loki' a few moments ago. Whatever his feelings may or may not have been trying to say, they could damn well shut the fuck up from now on. Tony had learnt well enough how to gloss over emotions, plaster the cracks, make the outside look OK. And he had learnt that if the outside looked OK, in time, the inside started feeling OK too.

''You have no idea. NONE. You have NO idea by what means I intend to execute my plan, what powers I have, powers that are mine to control. You question my conviction? This is misguided, and irrelevant, your precious world will give itself up long before I have time to doubt myself, and by then it will be TOO LATE. Too late for you, like it is already too late for your friends. Yes, Stark, you do – ah – _intrigue_ me, I cannot deny it, but never think for _one second_ that I am not still above you, that I could not stop you in your tracks, even now. Your Midguard magic might have fooled the sceptre, but it would be a fatal mistake to believe that you have fooled _me_. My powers go beyond the perimeters of my '_magic stick_' as you so fondly put it''.

Loki's words were vicious, echoing the malevolent expression on the gods face as he drew himself up to his full height, his sceptre crackling with fierce energy and his eyes blazing. He had suffered too many slights to accept having them flung at him by a mere _mortal_. A mortal that had angered him more than any other, because this one was different. This one had something none of the others did. And not just the suit of iron, although Loki could see that was strong, powerful, impressive even. (For a mortal – it barely scratched the surface of his own endowment, but he recognised that its maker was among the more advanced of his own kind). The suit was a construct, and a construct alone.

But the man. This man. Tony Stark. Loki was sure he had a heart, he had to, all living beings did. But something was very, very different about the heart of Tony Stark, and whatever this _thing_ was that was protecting it. He had heard it, humming a rhythm not unlike the pulsating of magic around his own veins. He had _felt_ it, a barrier, a wall, separating Stark from him in a way his mind could not penetrate. Loki had heard Stark mention 'arc reactor' several times, and yet the man had told him nothing about what this thing was. Loki never had been one for patience. Stark was – and Loki was loathe to admit this – a much stronger and more slippery opponent than he anticipated, and it was doing nothing for his already barely controlled vehemence.

_Stark will talk_, he thought to himself. _He will talk, and then he will beg and scream and plead for mercy. And he will feel pain as he has never felt before. Because I have come too far for anything else. And he has pushed me further still, with his sorely attempted japes. And I will have taken his secrets, and my army will have taken his world. And I shall end by taking his life. _


	4. Chapter 4

_Firstly, thank you all so SO much for reading, and for all your lovely reviews so far and for story alerting/favouriting, it seriously makes my day! _(^.^) __

This chapter is full of confused Tony, as he begins to realise that he and Loki might share a few choice personality traits…and I actually have a plan sketched out for the next few chapters now, so there will be some more developments on the way and I promise we will get out of this scene very soon! Also, extra characters might very soon be making an appearance. OOO..

Hope you enjoy! 

_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

**Chapter 4. Seeing and believing.  
**

Tony Stark was, once again, feeling ever so slightly more unnerved than he was entirely comfortable with. Loki had just spat out his longest stream of words so far, and by all means he was now beyond fury. Standing opposite Tony - towering over him to be more accurate; Tony was sorely reminded of how intimidated he felt whenever Thor was beside him – Loki seemed tense, livid and ready to snap both in his manner and his voice. Tony still hadn't figured out how to get the suit to him without having to speak to JARVIS, and thus alert Loki to what he was doing – and, fabulous as his shiny toy was, it wasn't half as fast as an extremely angry Asgardian god. Yet.

If only he could figure out how to do that whole mind control thing too, he thought grimly; he could speak to JARVIS in silence and ask him to help figure out what the fuck to do next. If he cared to admit it to himself, he had been overly cocky about his temerity; he hadn't truly allowed himself to believe that Loki would be an even and – _dare he think it?_ – superior match for him. After all, who the hell else was?

_Then again, Loki is the God of fucking Mischief._ Yep, Tony really had overshot his mark this time. It made him feel slightly sick to think it, to think he was being beaten at his own game. By _Loki_ of all people.

_But that's it, isn't it_, needled a part of his brain that was rarely used anymore, a part that had become dusty and almost forgotten. _Loki isn't 'all people'_. _Loki is the one person – well, god – that can beat you at your game, because he's played it before. He's been through imaginable horrors too, he's had doubts about his worth his whole life, he's had to build walls, only to have them knocked down by the person he was trying so hard to impress. Impress, and yet keep out. Loki's background…it really isn't that different to your own. Worse, even, because Loki's been dealing with it for centuries. If anyone else knows what it's like to have had a shit tonne of fuck ups in your life, it's Loki. He's hurting, just like you were. He hasn't mended himself yet. He might not even have finished breaking himself. He's been desperate too. And he's still desperate now._

Fuck, what this _compassion_ for Loki? Was Tony really sitting here being all _introspective _and _sympathetic_ towards the guy from another world who was at this current moment using Tony as a temporary respite from destroying _this_ world? Loki might not have been able to use his full powers of mind control on Tony's brain, but for the love of heaven, Tony decided, he'd certainly fucked something up in there. He had to have. Didn't he? Because if all these strange thoughts and feelings weren't somehow Loki's doing, if Loki hadn't manipulated him in some way, then that meant Tony was getting dangerously close to _understanding _Loki, and who knew what bag of deranged cats that appalling acknowledgment would set free. He was already uncomfortably aware of the creeping fascination with Loki lurking somewhere in his mind, making funny little skittering things dance all the way down his chest into his stomach, ever since he cottoned on to the fact that looking at Loki was akin to staring into a metaphorical fucking mirror.

With a forced and probably visible effort, Tony ripped himself away from the edge of this deep and terrifying hole that threatened to consume his entire ability to think, let alone speak – _Jesus, he'd end up as insane as Loki if he carried on down there _– and tried to fix a smile on his face, his heart beating at a thousand miles per hour and his forehead prickling with a nervous sweat.

OK, that was it. He'd gone insane. Since when was TONY FUCKING STARK ever _nervous _of anything?

Somehow, perceiving that he probably wasn't going to get an answer out of his adversary, Loki moved forward once again, thoughts spinning and crashing around his own head – _himself, Jotunheim, Thor, Odin, his father, Thor's coronation, the Bifrost breaking into a billion pieces, NO, falling, falling, and pain, so much pain, burning and coursing through his veins, white hot, terror all around him, no escape_ – and he bent his torso towards Tony, causing Tony to have to lean back; exposing his chest.

''I think'' Loki whispered, in the most alarmingly soft tone Tony had ever heard in his life, ''I have had enough of your game. Time is up, Tony Stark. I _will_ know that which I seek, and I _will_ claim my knowledge. You have had ample chance to tell me, and I tire of sparring with your inferior, disgusting mortal tongue''.

At each word Loki had bent down nearer and nearer to Tony, who was executing a kind of mad sitting down scramble in his stool in an attempt to pull away from Loki without toppling over, a sight that would have been almost comical were it not for the threat of immense, palpable danger making the very air around them shiver. As Loki finished speaking, his voice having dropped to a barely discernible whisper, he raised his arm in a flash and pressed his palm upon Tony's chest, before the seated man could even contemplate moving or blocking or fighting.

Tony froze, and not just because Loki's hand was practically radiating permafrost. Tony froze with fear, his heart pounding so hard he was surprised it didn't burst right of his chest right there and then and save Loki a job. Nobody touched his arc reactor. Nobody. Apart from of course himself, and more recently, Pepper. Tony was fully and blindingly aware that inside his genius lay vulnerability, inside his technique lay chance, and inside his intelligence lay flaws. He knew the arc reactor would keep him alive, he knew he had nothing to fear from it.

_But that was if it was left alone_.

For he knew that the arc reactor could also be his death, killer and weapon all at once. Tony was under no illusion that if anything ever happened that compromised the reactor, he had a limited – _very_ limited – amount of time to get to, locate, and install his back up. A plan of action that Tony knew was utterly and laughably useless in this particular situation. He had no idea what Loki was about to do, but he would bet his whole damn fortune on it not ending well for him. Loki not knowing what the reactor was or did wasn't a comfort; if anything, it constituted more of threat – any 'accidents' would be sure to favour Loki, and not himself.

Loki was grabbing his chest tighter, the tips of his fingers practically burning a hole through Tony's skin, and from the look of intense concentration in his face and the faint glow around his hand that was clearly _not _coming from the light of the reactor, Tony guessed he was using magic, assumedly a different sort to the kind that powered the sceptre. The reactor seemed to be humming a tad more noticeably than usual, but apart from this -

_nothing_.

Nothing was exploding out of his chest; nothing was whining to a halt, no shards of metal were burrowing deep into his heart. Tony dared let himself hope that somehow, something about him was recalcitrant to Loki's powers. Although of course, this hardly offered Tony any comfort, as Loki had power beyond his magic. He was imbibed with super human strength, even if he was a weakling compared to Thor, and did not seem to get injured in the same way humans did. Loki could use brute strength to pull the reactor out of Tony's body, Tony's life following not far behind it. All Tony had to cling to was the hope that this thought stayed as far away from Loki as it was possible to get.

A low, almost inhumane hissing noise seemed to escape from Loki's lips and his hand released some of the pressure, though still resting with unmistakeable strength and authority over the arc reactor. The faint strands of greeny blue mist that had been rippling down Loki's arm and across Tony's torso had disappeared and Loki was staring into Tony's eyes with a new expression, one of anger and frustration, yes, but coupled with curiosity, and was that - _admiration_? And the slightest, tiniest, most miniscule flicker of fear?

''One heart not enough for you, Man of Iron?'' Loki tried to smirk, but his voice was betrayed by the same emotions mirrored in his eyes. ''This – this arc reactor – it is your source of life, yes? It controls your body. It gives off a power that is alien to me, and which appears to counteract the sources of my magic. I wonder, for what possible reason do you need this? I sense no other like it, I sense no others that require it. It is unique. Are you really that fond of your costume, Man of Iron, that you would begin to transform yourself into a breathing version of it? Saving time on getting dressed are we?''

Loki's abrupt return to the world of snarky derision that seemed to be his preferred habitat was ruined somewhat by the discomfort sneaking through his tone, and the fact that Tony too busy gaping, once again, at finding himself still alive, to throw back a witty retort.

''Come, Man of Iron. I have seen your secret. I have felt it. It only remains for me to discover how you made it, and for what purpose. A matter which I can and will solve. And I can offer you the easy way, or the hard way. The easy way, it gets to remain inside your chest. The hard way, it comes with me. And as I'm not currently advertising for an accomplice, it comes with me, _alone_''.

Ah. So Loki had figured out that if the arc reactor was removed, Tony was only as good as his unmanned suit, hanging limp, still and silent, devoid of any source of life.

_Ha, now that was good_, he thought to himself. He was quite proud of that metaphor. Loki might be a sarky bastard, but the longer Tony was spending in his company, the more he was beginning to identify with the way his mind works. Even if he hated to think so, even if he hated that Loki looked very much like he might be winning. As Tony was beginning to realise, it seemed like you couldn't trick a trickster. But hadn't he also just thought that he and Loki were the same? No, _similar_. Vaguely similar at best. They had minor similarities.

_Fuck. He was getting worryingly close to 'there' again_.

And he didn't want to go 'there', wherever there was. He'd had enough shit, he didn't want to attack himself by wondering what it meant if he shared several personality traits with a man as damaged, depraved and corrupt as Loki. Corruption and depravity was what got him into this whole mess to begin with, two decades ago.

''You know, I don't know if you've heard, but I'm pretty much a big deal.'' Tony had found his voice again. ''Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, you got that spot on''. He nodded his head towards Loki, feigning mock gratitude. ''And I don't really fancy my chances living up to my reputation with a ragged great hole in my chest, scaring away the fans…so…it wouldn't be the first time someone's used 'easy' and 'Tony Stark' in the same sentence''. He grinned laviaciously at Loki, having seemingly slipped just as easily as the god back into the cool, slick manner for which he was most renowned.

''Wise choice, Stark'', Loki said, the soft voice back, yet without the menacing undertone of before. He looked positively satisfied, smile playing at his lips and something very close to relief reflected in his expression. Tony was just beginning to wonder how he could stall Loki further – he had no intention of _actually_ playing nicely – when the window behind Loki exploded into thousands of glittering pieces, shooting through the air in reaction to their sudden disturbance, and something large, green and surging at 500 miles an hour burst into the penthouse at full throttle, roaring with indescribable rage at a decibel level that exceeded several large aircrafts taking off simultaneously.

As if a Loki hadn't been enough, Tony now had a Hulk in his living room.


	5. Chapter 5

_Ok, a small warning: this chapter and the next one are pretty short. Shorter than I really wanted, and I debated mashing them together, but they just didn't seem to fuse and I was getting insanely frustrated with the attempt and I was loathe to get rid of the dramatic cliff-hangery /FEELS/ at the endings/beginnings! So sorry, and hope you bear with me for the interim of internal Tony monologuing…. and I promise to write some longer chapters soon!_

_Also sorry if it feels like I'm dragging this whole scene out, but I like build up and I'd rather overcompensate than skyrocket to SEXYTIME and have it all sounding rushed… (um, yeah, I just like to waffle, pretty much). So I get the feeling this fic will be pretty long!_

_Once again, all your R+R's are making my day. Any more comments an/or suggestions welcome, AS ALWAYS! :D_

**Chapter 5. Assault**.

Loki spun round, his mouth forming a solid 'O' in shock, his eyes fixed upon the colossal green mass that had suddenly materialized in their midst. Holding his sceptre across his torso like a shield, he angled the point in the direction of the Hulk and executed his second signature move: the blast of the white hot magical flame intended to incarcerate any opponent any on the spot.

It had absolutely no effect whatsoever on the angry giant. Unless you counted making him even more incensed, provoked by the hostile intention in Loki's action more than the exertion of it, which must have felt like a minor tickle (if anything). With a roar that shattered the few remaining windows panes, the Hulk drew up short, punching a table full of screens and gadgets out of the way, and swiped a gigantic fist in Loki's direction. Loki narrowly missed being pulverized by teleporting to the opposite side of the room, leaving the Hulk snatching at a faint Loki-shaped flutter in the air. Tony had already hastened to launch himself off his stool and had dived behind the bar, almost dislocating his shoulder when the floor met his body with a dodgy angle and a large crack.

Confused and surprised by the sudden disappearance of his target, the Hulk gave another deafening roar and swung his body round, knocking over a line of artistically arranged frond-y plants (Tony had never bothered to learn what they were, Pepper was in charge of designing the space; Tony with using it) and making a sizeable dent in the granite table just shy of the bar where Tony hid. Dust billowing around him, and rubble crumbling at his feet, the Hulk surveyed the room for a sight of Loki. Or anything that moved. Tony knew enough from what Dr Banner had said with bitter affection that 'the other guy' lost most of his cognitive skills when he transformed and could barely distinguish his friends from his enemies; to him, anything that moved was a target. Things in his way were a target. Things not even in his way, that he simply just didn't like the look of, were a target. The Hulk was a liability as well as an aid, the most dangerous of all the Avengers. Tony knew better than to try and side himself with Banner when he had 'hulked out' as he teasingly called it, and hence was as at much risk as Loki was, and all he could do now was stay in his hiding place, praying that the beast didn't notice him or take a strong disliking to all freestanding furniture.

Catching sight of Loki over by the staircase out to the balcony, the Hulk stretched his face into the grimmest effort of a satisfied smirk ever seen and smashed his way across the room in 3 easy strides. Loki attempted a second futile fire projection, panic and anger fighting their way across his face in waves.

''STOP, BEAST!'' he shrieked, as the Hulk knocked the sceptre out of his grasp and closed his grip around the god's frame. Raising Loki into the air, the Hulk threw him bodily across the room, shattering more glass panels and demolishing a section of the fireplace as Loki crash landed into it and fell to the floor in a heap. He had barely dragged himself to his feet before the Hulk had crossed the room once more and picked him up, this time by the legs, and batted him into the wall he had just smacked into. Grunting with a mixture of fury and pleasure, the Hulk let go of Loki and the bruised god slid down onto the floor, cuts and streaks of blood covering his exposed skin. Furious, desperate and in pain, Loki staggered to his feet, spitting debris out of his mouth and clenching his fists in rage.

''ENOUGH!'' he shouted in a voice that crackled with voracity and offence. ''YOU DARE TOUCH ME! YOU ARE ALL OF YOU BENEATH ME! I AM A GOD, YOU DULL CREATURE, AND I WILL NOT BE BULLIED BY A- ''

Midway through his ear splitting tirade, the Hulk had once more grabbed Loki by the legs and proceeded to fling him upside down into the air, before bringing him smashing down into the floor like a bizarre and submissive human hammer. Over and over again the Hulk slammed the God of Mischief into the marble tiles, until there were Loki shaped craters all around his feet, and the god himself had gone limp in the Hulks grasp. Raising his 'new toy' one last time, the Hulk threw Loki down onto the ground with such force that he sunk several inches into the floor, cracking a dozen or so tiles around his perimeter and causing fault lines to erupt all the way across the penthouse, fanning out from the ungainly figure sprawled at an angle that suggested he had no unbroken bones left in his entire body.

Satisfied with his five minutes of play, the Hulk turned round in the billowing dust, muttered ''puny god'' at the defeated and pathetic bundle at his feet and headed back out through the window frame, disappearing over the balcony wall.

Staring out across the room, Tony watched the dust swirl and loop through the air, settling on the shiny surfaces of his now totally wrecked penthouse. Having a resident Hulk, even if only for a period of a few minutes, was not conducive to minimalist chic. The worst part of the damage was over by the seating area, where Loki now seemed to be a permanent fixture in the floor, rubble and debris hemming him into his self made sunken trap. Tony gingerly crawled out from behind the oversized granite whiskey cabinet and pulled himself slowly to his feet, temporarily unsure of what to do – _should he approach Loki? Was Loki alive? Was this a trick, was Loki going to leap up and attack him; was he going to disappear again?_ – and even more unsure of the hundreds of feelings mixed in with these thoughts that were currently coursing around his body. _Was Loki badly hurt? Did he want him to be? Had he really cringed at the thought of Loki in pain whilst the Hulk had been flinging him around like a fully grown rag doll?  
_  
Before he had got halfway across the room, his mind still working furiously, brimming with thoughts and feelings and shock and utter confusion, he heard a noise, a barely perceptible noise that caused another barrel of completely unexpected and perturbing feelings to spill into his mind. A low, ragged whine, the sort a dog might make if kicked, or a child who had had all the air knocked out of their lungs after falling backwards from a garage rooftop (Tony had been 7, and trying to find a suitable surface to practice launching his first rocket prototype from). It took Tony a second for his logic to catch up with his hearing, and then he realised it was Loki who had made that noise – Loki, a demi-god, stronger and more powerful than any mortal being, looking and sounding for all the world like an utterly helpless, defeated ball of pain.

Freezing on the spot, Tony's skin prickled painfully at the sound and he scanned the image that was in front of him, Loki lying bent and misshapen, his clothes curled and twisted around him, his normally-slick hair dishevelled and falling across his face, which Tony could see was covered in angry red grazes and blossoming purple blotches.

Staring at this mess that was previously the God of Mischief, Tony blinked in pure shock at the abrupt change of events, and swallowed heavily to appease the dry clawing in his throat. His thoughts were jarring together and once again he was painfully close to feeling overwhelming sympathy for Loki, (if he could kid himself he wasn't already).

He noticed that Loki's sceptre was lying a few feet away from Loki himself, mangled and bent out of shape, no doubt beyond repair. The blue ball of energy at its tip was sputtering and growing smaller by the second, looking very much like a miniature imploding star. With a small hiss and a final flicker, the glow suddenly disappeared, and its bracket was left curving around a dull, semi transparent lump of crystal.

He looked back at Loki.

He looked back at Loki and realised with a jolt there was a ball of pain inside him too, a ball of pain that had started to appear when he heard Loki plead with the Hulk, screaming about not letting the creature bully him – _touched a nerve there, that did – _and which was growing larger with every second he spent looking at Loki.

Then he noticed that Loki's eyes were open, and that they were now bright green.

Emerald green.

Inexplicably, his ball of pain squeezed tighter.


	6. Chapter 6

_Yeah, here's the second 'short' update….sorry about this! But I've currently got first drafts up to Chapter 8, and there is a lot more dialogue and plot development and words to come in those. And, I'm getting quite into this daily update thing, so there won't be long to wait!_

_Also, although I have plans for this fic to go a certain way, after a comment yesterday I started imagining including the missile bit from the film (I was going to leave it out as it didn't fit into original plans….) so do people think that's a good idea? I haven't finalised stuff yet, I've got two possible endings to chapter 8 that could go either way, so I'm currently torn!_

_More to come, you fine people, I want to squish all of you for R+Ring._

_(^.^)_

_Disclaimer: As much as I would love to, I own none of these characters!_

**Chapter 6. Acquiring Comprehension. **

Loki continued to stare up at the ceiling, unblinking, pure and utter bewilderment plastered over his partially maimed face.

Tony continued to stare at Loki, unblinking, not-having-a-fucking-clue-what-to-do-next plastered over his wholly overwhelmed face.

The dust continued to swirl.

The battle noises outside appeared muted against the suffocating, silent roar filling the penthouse, and only the odd intermittent scream made its way up the 93 floors to the penthouse.

Loki had stopped whimpering.

Tony's heart was still hammering painfully fast.

Whether this was due to the sudden alarm at having the Hulk appear, the relief at finding himself ignored and unscathed, or the distress at having his majority of his upper floor effectively obliterated, Tony had no idea, but he was grabbing on to all three of these options and wrapping his brain around them, tightly. _There was no alternative, this was just shock, this was normal - yes, he was usually brilliant, fearless, effective in battle, but NOT when it quite literally burst in on him, suit-less, not when it flung itself through his window and tore right through an already obscure and unstable situation_.

'This' was NOTHING to do with the waves of sympathy and understanding that were suddenly crashing around his brain, rolling into every crevice and alcove that he'd fenced up for years, that he'd tried to forget. He knew he was lying to himself, but he had to. Because those areas didn't exist anymore. They didn't hurt him anymore. He was beyond that, he was fucking _Iron Man,_ he was a lifetime away from the Tony that had seen his whole life burn and twist in front of him, lies and betrayal tearing at every memory he of everyone, everything, every damn circumstance that he had met since then, Loki was _not_ the one who had managed to excavate all this - THIS – that he was suddenly dealing with. Loki's words shouldn't have caused this, Loki's manner shouldn't have reminded him of this. Loki lying in front of him, battered and defeated, should NOT BE CAUSING THESE FUCKING FEELINGS.

Tony was rooted to the spot, deafened by the force of his own thoughts, furiously trying to get his brain straight, so he could do something, say something – _get his old, own mind back, because this new one had an attack of the crazies – _but all he could focus on was Loki's eyes; shiny, round as saucers, dazed and startlingly green.

_Green_.

_Why the fuck were they green_. And why the fuck did Tony get the feeling this was of crucial, pivotal importance?

The more Tony stared, the more he realised that this wasn't the only thing that was different about Loki. Granted, yes, he was lying practically pulverised in the floor – IN it, not on it – as opposed to strutting around the penthouse like he owned the place, flipping between 'unhinged batshit crazy bastard' and 'snarky dangerous impossibly smooth supervillan'; but that wasn't quite it. He looked….more human, smaller, more exposed…he looked as if a mask had been removed from his entire being, as if he'd just woken up from a particularly distressing dream. The fight had been knocked out of him, literally _and_ metaphorically speaking. Tony always had been excellent at reading people within 30 seconds flat, he'd needed to be. It was his thing. And now this 'thing' had made him start feeling other 'things' that he wasn't entirely sure he was capable of processing, let alone understanding or coping with.

Scrap that. He was _definitely_ sure he wasn't capable of any of the above.

_What the fuck is wrong with me,_ he thought desperately. _And what the fuck is wrong with Loki? And why the fuck are these two things even related?_ He'd had a hard enough time grappling with the idea that he and Loki shared some…_stuff_when Loki was doing his 'evil invading mentally unhinged son of a bitch' act, let alone now, when Loki just looked like, well, like a wound. A splintered, open wound, bleeding confusion and pain and fragility and whatever the fuck other adjectives apply when someone's been used as a human bludgeon by a genetically modified giant monster.

Loki had been Hulk'd, and now suddenly, inexplicably, he just didn't look like the enemy anymore.

And Tony was left thinking just how much easier it had been when he did.


	7. Chapter 7

_Thought it was about time for a glimpse of internal Loki! Just a teaser really, there's much more of him to come later…at the moment this fic is very Tony centered, but it'll all even out as it goes along._

_Talking of which, I've now drafted up to Chapter 9 and get the feeling this is going to be going for a while, especially if we're ever going to arrive at any fluff/smut! I also promise that my chapters have started getting longer, (I know, I know, this one is relatively short again, and I truly am sorry, but from here on in it's going to be DIALOGUE CENTRIC!) Chps 8 and 9 are hitting the 3000+ word marks each…. So BLESS YOU ALL if you have stayed this far, and you will be rewarded with more plot and more words and more Loki very soon! _

_Your reviews once again continue to make me sob with happiness… Please feel free to give me any feedback or ideas, everything is so appreciated!_

* * *

**Chapter 7. Recovery.**

_White hot knives were needling their way through his veins, burning his insides, it was agony, it was beyond agony, it was worse than death, he would welcome death. He was begging for it. Begging for an end. His body was locked and rigid, his eyes rolling back in his head, blinding darkness smothering his vision and suffocating his thoughts. He could barely breathe, found it impossible to move, to even make a noise – but in his mind he was screaming, a visceral, excruciating scream that seemed to reverberate around the entire world. Whichever one it was this time._

_He couldn't take any more, he was surely broken beyond repair, shattered in a million shards of pain and madness. It wasn't the first time he'd been tortured like this, but surely it had to be the last. The Chitauri were merciless, and as for how long he'd been subjected to their evil torment, he no longer had any idea. It felt like forever, and the only thing that reminded him that it must have started somewhen was the unblunted memory of the moment when he let go of the staff, let go of his father, his brother, Asgard, and his home, the moment he fell from the Bifrost and was sucked into this world of persecution and pain._

That memory was the only thing that even came near to matching the levels of agony and abject horror of Chitauri's torment.

XXXXXXX

Loki's brain felt foggy, as if it were filled with wool, except for an area at the very back of his head that was sending thundering spasms down his neck and into his spine. He could feel his face was stinging and swollen; his limbs were heavy and felt as if each one had Mjolnir holding them down to the floor. With an effort of superhuman strength, he summoned whatever he could grasp of his magic and felt the slight prickling warmth cover his skin as his bones began knitting themselves back together and the pulsating waves of sound and light rocketing around his skill slowed and cleared.

His eyes were wet. He blinked, and noticed as a tear escaped, falling down into a cut and making it sting even more. As he noticed this he felt a brief moment of fear clutch at his heart, and he could still hear the anguished screaming inside his head and the overriding sense of dread and agony, before it fading, vanishing into nothingness and leaving him gasping in relief and confusion and shock. Taking in a huge gulp of air, Loki attempted to sit up, scanning his surroundings, new images entering his brain, images of Midguard, fighting, explosions, Stark Tower, Stark himself, Starks _thing_, curiosity, desperation, anger, a green monster, fear, pain, loathing, and then blackness.

But now he was awake.

Properly awake, and he couldn't understand it. Something was different. Everything was different. His rage, his venom, his purpose. It had all but gone. Dissipated. Replaced by a blurred and fuzzy sense of shame, disorientation, and anguish. Managing to sit up, Loki turned and lifted his head, aware that his cheeks were wet and suspecting that blood wasn't the only cause. His blinked and felt how watery his eyes were. Catching sight of Stark rooted to the spot a few metres away from him, staring at him with a gobsmacked look and confusion dancing in his eyes, Loki cleared his throat, looked Stark straight in the face and mumbled weakly –

''If it's all the same to you, I'll have that drink, now.''

Tony was once again behind his bar, it being the only thing in the penthouse to have escaped being smashed to smithereens. Even the hundred or so bottles adorning its surface were still all intact. Miraculous. Lucky. And typical, Tony thought with a wry smile. After he recovered from the immediate shock of Loki asking him for a drink – _Loki fucking Laufeyson, guy that had invaded the Earth and caused the mother of all fuck ups left right and centre, asking him for a DRINK_ – he clung to the suggestion, grateful to have an excuse to move and something to do with his hands; something that forced his brain back into a semblance of normality, even if it was a case of the thinnest veil covering the largest pile of shit that had ever occurred. Drink. That was something knew what to do, that was something he could identify with. That was him. And _that_was reassuring, because he was beginning to suspect he'd gone through some sort of wormhole in time and had all his bits taken apart and put back together, but in different ways. Wrong ways.

Because this whole situation was wrong. Bizarre, insane, ridiculous. First he was readying to join a battle, then he was accosted by a fucking demi-god - the very guy he was meant to be fighting, _in his own fucking penthouse_, then he was playing some sort of verbal cat and mouse game with said demi-god, then the fucking HULK had appeared, trashed the entire place and practically atomized aforementioned demi-god. Who now appeared to be an entirely disparate person from who he was at the beginning.

And the most ridiculous thing? Tony felt like he was staring at his fucking twin.

Because the thing that got Tony the most, the thing that he was trying he bestest to keep in that pile of shit, under the veil, was that this apparent 'transformation' felt horribly and acutely familiar. The pace and severity at which he was starting to comprehend this fact was frightening, but Tony knew without a doubt that he was right. He'd seen in pre-Hulk'd Loki the hardness, the anger, the bitterness and the pain that had caused him to be so sharp tongued and hell bent on revenge, he'd seen the intelligence and acumen of Loki's brain reflected in his sharp, sardonic manner and sarcastic bartering. He'd seen the panic and desperation when Loki had lost control.

He'd been there. He'd done that. And he'd got the mother-fucking suit.

All the shit that had happened to him, all his daddy issues, Obadiah, betrayal, Yinsen, guilt, alcoholism, self loathing, revenge – it had taken him to rock bottom. He knew what it looked like down there, and what it felt like. He knew what it was like to look as far as you possibly can into the distance and only see darkness. He knew what it was like to run, and realise that you couldn't outrun yourself. He knew what it was like to want an end, to want everything to just stop, to hate yourself more than anyone else in the world.

And he also knew how to beat it. How to slowly, day by day, not regret waking up that morning. How to torture yourself a little bit less. How to start looking forward, instead of back. How to discard the person you hated, and start again from scratch. How to mend yourself. How to live again. How to stop running.

And he didn't know how he knew it, and he barely dared to believe himself, but somehow, inexplicably, he was absolutely certain that Loki had finally just given up on his race.

Tony poured a large measure of whiskey into a tumbler and silently passed it across the bar to the god. Running was thirsty work.


	8. Chapter 8

_Here we go! Dialogue! From here on in we are going to be having longer chapters and more talking and hopefully stuff happening. EEEP! I'm finding it quite a challenge to sketch out 'day to day' Loki and Tony…so if my updates start becoming every other day rather than every day I apologize, but I can imagine me having a lot of tantrums about my writing from now on! Hopefully it'll get easier as I go along!_

_Disclaimer: Chapter title is shamelessly stolen from the 65daysofstatic song of the same name. Go listen, it's fabulous._

_Other disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters_

_Ending on a nice note: I LOVE you all for reading and commenting and alerting and generally giving me so many happy feels_!_ (^.^) _

_/SQUISHES/_

**Chapter 8. Drove Through Ghosts To Get Here. **

Loki was wary, Tony could sense it. He sat huddled on the stool Tony had only recently vacated as if he wasn't sure he was allowed to be there, as if he wasn't sure that he wasn't going to be attacked or arrested or that this wasn't all a trick. He was doubting himself, Tony realized, and he was scared. He looked about 5 times smaller and a few centuries younger. And like he no longer belonged in a mental asylum.

Tony poured himself a matching drink, threw in some ice and walked out from the bar, coming round to lean in front of where Loki was clenching his glass, knuckles white and face even whiter. He marvelled at how fast the cuts and bruises were healing, marvelled that Loki had even been able to drag himself over to the stool. He knew the god was powerful, but the speed of his recovery, that was _impressive_. Tony found himself with that familiar itch of curiosity when faced with something he found fascinating or challenging; he'd love to work on a similar program for his suit. It'd cut fixing and rebuilding time by a significant amount of days.

Shaking his head, he let go of this tangent, storing it away for future contemplation. For now, he wanted to get to the bottom of this. Without the other Avengers, without S.H.E.I.L.D, without Loki being arrested and dragged off to be incarcerated in some godforsaken cell in Fury's basement or escorted back to Asgard to face some inevitable and undoubtedly horrific punishment. He wanted Loki to talk, and he wanted to understand. And no, he had no idea what he was going to say, whether he should even be saying it, or whether Loki would even comply. He had no idea what he was doing, but when it came to Loki, he got the feeling not many people really did. Or ever had.

''Drink up, Reindeer Games. It'll help. Although you seem to be doing a pretty good job of that yourself'' Tony said, once again casting an appraising glance over Loki's healing body.

Loki jumped at the sudden conversation, and drew a shaking hand up to his mouth, sniffing the amber liquid.

''You're doubting my taste?'' Tony questioned, attempting an easy smile; Loki was clammed up like a oyster and if Tony was going to have any success at unravelling this monumental mess, he had to get the god feeling comfortable. Tony got the impression snarking would be a long way off, but he'd settle for straight up talking. Hell, he'd even settle for more anger.

Loki eyed him suspiciously before taking a sip.

''Hmm. It's good''.

Tony nodded in agreement. ''You expected less?''

Loki looked down again. 'I expected…not this. I never wanted this. I never expected to come this far. I never thought…I was….it wasn't….'' he broke off, agitated, fingers worrying at the glass. Tony figured he wasn't just talking about the whiskey.

'Regretting your little take over mission? 'Risk' not exciting enough for you anymore? Hey, do you even have board games back in Asgard, or wherever?'' Tony still wasn't 100% sure if this jokey manner was the way forward, but hell, it felt comfortable, it was second nature, and he was already haring off at 200 miles an hour with it, ignoring all other roads.

''This is not…this is not funny, Stark'' Loki whispered, and he felt wetness on his cheeks again. ''What I have done, what I am…Asgard, it is not my home…it never was and never has been. And now Earth…destroying Earth was never my plan, never my intention. It is true I never cared for Earth, no, that was Thor. But….Thor….I only ever wanted…I only ever wanted to be his equal. I never wanted to destroy him. I never wanted to destroy anything. I have killed and I have maimed and I am left with nothing, again''. The tears were coming thicker and faster now, and Loki was shaking, his voice breaking over every other word.

Tony took in this gush of feelings, something squeezing at his heart; he forced himself to harden his voice, to not succumb to the wreckage that was latent inside of him.

''I'm a monster'' Loki continued, ''and I always have been. I should never have expected anything different. This is what monsters do, they destroy things. People. They have nothing and they deserve nothing. They are despicable, an abomination. They - '' and he broke off again as a wave of despair convulsed across his body.

Fuck. This was rock bottom alright. Tony thought back to the Loki of about 10 minutes ago, the Loki stood seething with anger and screaming that he was a god, that he was not to be bullied, that he was to be obeyed. They were worlds apart, quite literally. (Tony was quickly forming a theory as to why Loki was suddenly reduced to a crumbled, blubbering green eyed wreck, and he was ready to bet all he had left that he was right).

'STOP'' Tony said, reaching out at grabbing Loki by the shoulders. _Huh, role reversal much?_ 'Just stop. Back up a bit. You're fucked up, I get that. Seriously. I _get_ that. But monster? Shit, yeah, you've been a evil little arsehole, not to mention a cocky bastard. You've pissed off just about everyone on the entire planet. But you are NOT a monster.''

That particular phrase had hit Tony hard, he'd been sorely reminded of Banner and the many conversations they'd shared about 'the other guy'. Banner had taken a long time to get to the stage where he could separate himself from the Hulk, he had convinced himself that he, too, was a monster – a belief that had crushed Tony when he found out, hurt him, because damn, he liked Banner, respected him, loved him even – he was the smartest guy on the team, apart from himself, and invaluable to Tony at times when he needed a scientific brain to bounce ideas off. Banner wasn't a monster, and the Hulk wasn't his fault. And if Tony was right in his theory, Loki was no more of monster, and no more at fault. Kind of. In a different way.

''Listen, I don't care what you say. I care what you've done, yes, because it's hurt me and it's hurt my friends and you've caused a pretty shitty situation to have to clean up. But I _understand_. Some of it at least. You killed one person here, a great guy. And you caused the deaths of many, many others, although indirectly. You brought an alien army here to Earth and you've done so much damage I'd hasten to bet that Manhattan will be in debt for decades to come. So yeah. Not your best move. And I don't condone any of it. But I DO understand. You want to hear why? I used to be a big shot in the weapons manufacturing business. I sold to terrorists. I probably caused as many deaths as you, and indirectly, one of them was another friend of mine. I probably fucked the world up just as much, but over a larger area and a longer amount of time. I was called the Merchant of Death, for fucks sake. Does 'God of Mischief' sound any better yet?''

Loki was sat still, listening, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

'What I'm saying is, we've all done stuff we regret. Some people's stuff is bigger than others. Some people's hurts more. Some people's takes longer to escape. But you _can_ escape, and whatever the hell you've done, whoever you've pissed off or whatever you've fucked up, NOTHING excuses the right to give up. Giving up is the final mistake. I've learnt the hard way. You can surrender, or you can start again. You can acknowledge the pain without letting it tear you apart. You can use it to build something greater, something new. You can control it, and it no longer controls you. And all anyone will ever be able to judge you for is how you did it and what you become. A _fair_ judgement. And if I'm going to judge you fairly, I need to confirm something''.

He straightened up and stared straight into Loki's eyes, taking in the depth of green as if to confirm his thoughts.

''Your sceptre. It wasn't yours was it? I mean, it wasn't always yours. Someone gave it to you. Someone gave it to you for a purpose, and taught you how to use it. Dr Selvig. Barton. Those other Agents. Nearly myself. They were under it's power, weren't they? Well let me get something else straight. You looked ten times worse than they did. They looked like their eyes had frozen, you looked like you had fucking icebergs in your sockets. You looked insane. You sounded insane. You acted insane. You were controlling them…but who was controlling you?''

Throughout Tony's speech Loki's eyes had widened and he had shifted restlessly on his chair, never taking his gaze from Tony's, looking frightened and exhausted.

''The Chitauri'' he forced in a whisper, shuddering at the very mention of their name. ''Their leader…he…he found me…he found me in a bad place…I was weak, half destroyed, my magic – it was sorely injured, I couldn't escape…he collected me and transported me to their world, and he…they…they tortured me. They tortured me and tried to bargain with me. They - ''

He took a second to compose himself, and this time Tony was the one staring, gripping his glass too tightly and feeling the sickening disgust clawing at his stomach as Loki said the words that were clearly causing him indescribable pain.

'' – they wanted the Tesseract, and in return offered me the only thing I had to bargain, they offered me a home. A place to go. The Earth. They would invade, and I….I would command them…and we would win…and they would leave, with the Tesseract, and I would rule Earth. But they had to make sure I kept up my side of the bargain. They knew who I was, they knew my reputation, trickster, lie-smith. So they threatened me. They made me feel pain as I had never even imagined…could never imagine…that pain stripped everything from me, and all that was left was the bad…bad which they antagonized, bad which they fed. My anger, my power, my regret, my guilt, they manipulated them until that was all I was. And then they gave me the sceptre and sent me here''.

Loki finished, choking over his last few sentences, and drained his drink, eyes glistening with tears.

Tony knew it.

His theory was right. Loki had been the biggest pawn of the all, he was a victim too. And he had been the perfect target. From what Tony had learned from Thor, about Loki's background, his childhood, his adoption, his attempts to destroy Jotunheim and his self-sacrifice on the Bifrost, Loki had been damaged and fucked up even more than Tony had been, and that was _before_ Loki had met with the Chitauri. It wasn't an excuse, but it was an explanation, and Tony knew that while Loki had enemies, his worst one had always been himself. When he was attacked, and vulnerable, slighted again and again, Loki had kept going in the only way he knew how. The only way Tony had once known how. He had crawled out of the remains, scarred, and sworn to get revenge. Sworn that it would never happen again. Allowed hideous memories to poison his soul. _It's a vicious cycle_, Tony thought, _and Loki knows it_. _You tell yourself you don't deserve love, or happiness, or forgiveness, or acceptance, and you rip anyone who tries to tell you any different into shreds, even if it's yourself. Because it hurts too much to do anything else, and it's easier. _

It was a nightmare. Loki may have woken up, but he wasn't mended yet. A lot of things were still dark, and would be for a long time to come.

And unless someone could persuade the other Avengers, Fury, Thor and the entire bloody American Government that Loki was no longer (much of) a threat, that 'long time' may just as well be forever.

_Someone._

Tony poured himself another drink.


	9. Chapter 9

_G__uys guys guys, thank you so so much for your feedback again, sorry for gushing so much but honestly it means a LOT and I am so happy you like my writing and I'm so grateful for all your suggestions and lovely compliments! You are the BEST. _

_SMOOSH _

_Anyways, here's my longest chapter so far, I had so much fin writing this, really hope you enjoy it! Say hi to a few of our Avengers friends, they'll be back very shortly…._

_Again, no slash/smut/fluff yet, but you know by now it's going to take a whiiiiile. Loki's all sad and vulnerable and Tony's confused, we wouldn't want to take advantage now would we? Oh how I love them. PEACE OUT._

_Disclaimer__: Title is from the song 'Closing Circles' by Vowels, another post/math rock band. I'm a hipster kid at heart. And I quite like this song/chp link thing, probs will keep this up….also, I still don't own any of the characters._

Chapter 9. Closing Circles. 

The atmosphere in the penthouse was suffocating; the air felt thick, as if it were roaring silently. Loki was still hunched on the stool, looking utterly lost and despondent, and Tony was still staring at the fragile, shattered man in front of him, trying to get his head round the moment it all started going wrong. For the Earth and his fellow Avengers, it was when Loki appeared, hell bent on destruction and determined to murder and manipulate his way through any resistance. For him, it was the moment he recognised that there was more to Loki, more to his flawed and desperate plan, more that somehow and unarguably bound their pasts together. For Loki himself, it was way before any of this, way back, right back to a time Tony could barely even imagine, it was practically forever ago. Loki had been dealing with anger, turmoil, pain and rejection for longer than Tony had been alive, and as time had gone on, he had twisted and infected himself more, until he finally came across creatures who could do it to him even harder and even more effectively.

''What will happen now? To me?'' Loki had broken the silence with a question so loaded with hesitation, dread and resignation that Tony could feel it sinking into the space between them, weighed down with more emotion than a mere six words should be able to hold.

''I don't know'' Tony answered, deciding that there was no alternative but simple, brute honesty. 'I don't know. There is going to be a lot of baying for your blood. SHIELD, Fury, the Avengers, the Government. The public. You…you made a mess. A shit tonne of mess. And that's not going to be forgiven easily. And convincing people it wasn't exactly your fault, as such, is going to be if anything more difficult than putting everything right. People will want you punished, whether here or back on Asgard. Hell, probably both. And I can't see Fury taking too kindly to the idea of Thor just sweeping you home to face some 'higher justice'. Bad decisions, however unfair it may sound, are always met with retribution. It's just the way shit happens. Believe me, I know''.

''Then you know what will happen'' Loki said, bowing his head again as if it were too heavy to hold up the burden of Tony's reply. ''I will be finished. I will endure more pain, more degradation, more torture. Asgard will likely see me in chains for the remainder of my days, and your people will likely execute me, if not at their own hand then by contract. It will be over, at last''. His low, flat voice was completely devoid of emotion, and Tony shivered with the sudden comprehension of just how much desolation and agony Loki must have experienced that allowed him to talk about it in such a numb, casual manner.

'Everything isn't lost'' Tony said firmly, wanting Loki to snap out this frozen dome he'd built around himself. 'You might not think highly of the Avengers, of SHIELD, but they are not terrorists. They are not executioners. They will not see your death, not at their hands or anyone else's. They will not sanction cold blooded murder as punishment, even if…even if that is the charge against you''.

'Don't lie to me, Stark'' Loki implored, looking tired. 'What punishment is left, that matches so heinous a crime as my own? Even if your – your SHIELD, as you say, will not kill me, how shall you propose to stop Thor returning me to my _dear father's_ judgement? Asgardian law is above and beyond your command''.

'Listen, I don't know the details. Ok? I really don't know. I haven't worked out what's going to happen, and frankly, it probably isn't going to be up to me. I don't have a plan, and I don't even know what the fuck's going on anymore'' Tony gestured loosely at the balcony, indicating outside. ''My team are still down there, people are still getting hurt. I should be out there, saving them. That's what I do. Superhero contract and all that. But I guess it's your lucky day that your big breakdown/change-around thing happened in front of me, because now I get to save _you_. And I'm telling you, death and torture does _not_ come under that job description. Not even as a perk''.

Loki was twitching, clearly trying to wrap his head around Tony's words and his intonation. The confident, forceful manner of speech which was usually so familiar to both of them had been hovering on the edges of his words. An occurrence which Tony, at least, was insanely grateful for.

_W__ell, someone had to grab an attempt to get back to normality here. _

''Why should I believe you? For all your words, you are still, technically, my enemy'' Loki's mouth screwed up at the last word, as if it left a bad taste.

Tony sighed. ''Aren't you getting it, Reindeer Games? I've told you. I've been there. That black void. That unfathomable place your brain takes you to when it wants to escape even its own thoughts. I've looked into the abyss, and yes, it's looked back at me too''. _That reference would be lost on Loki, but no matter._''But I came back, and I reformed, and I integrated myself into society. A better society. I chose my friends, and I chose my enemies, and I chose more wisely this time''.

''What if you didn't have the choice? What if you couldn't 'come back'? What if you were stuck there, chained down and cast out, forgotten, beyond chance or redemption?''

Loki's voice had broken again, and they both knew he wasn't referring to Tony.

'There is always a choice. There is always something. If there was nothing, you'd be dead. And we've established that that is off the radar. There is _always_ a chance''.

Tony understood Loki's reluctance to believe him, and not just because up to this point, they had indeed been enemies, rivals, so far away from each other on the spectrum that they practically met in the middle again. (And they were both still trying to get their heads around _that_.) No, Tony also understood Loki's reluctance to believe him because he knew himself what pain did to you. It destroyed rational thought, it built a wall so large that you forgot what was on the other side. Pain stayed when everything else left, and after so long, it started to feel natural, inescapable, even, in some sick and twisted way, welcome. Everything that didn't hurt was suspicious, a threat. Every time a bone was thrown at you, all you saw was poison. If there was anything worse than being told you were insignificant and loathsome, it was believing it.

'And so what you're saying…is you're mine? You're my chance? My fate rests in your hands?'' Loki questioned the man stood in front of him, his voice cracking with both hope and despair. 'And I'm expected to believe that you're somehow going to _fix_ me? I am not one of your suits, Stark. And even with your suits, I doubt you can beat the mass of people who will be queuing up to witness my amercement''.

''Those'd be the people you ordered to kneel, yeah? Still reckon a few of them would have obeyed you.'' Tony couldn't resist the innuendo, even if he knew it was wildly situation inappropriate – it was just the way he was programmed. His default setting.

''Anyway. There will be no witnessing - or sanctioning for that matter - of anything of the sort. I won't need the suit. And it won't just be me. I'll work on SHEILD. Sort something out. Something…humane. Rehabilitation. I'll make Fury think it was all his idea, and anyway, I'm betting that he'll take anything over letting you escape back to Asgard. He holds a grudge, believe me - ''

''He does indeed''.

Tony was cut off by a low, thunderous and deeply unamused voice coming from his left. Turning in surprise, he found himself staring straight at the Director himself, framed in the doorway of his elevator shaft, Steve, Clint and Natasha behind him. Fury looked, well, furious. Steve looked like someone had hit him over the head with something large and heavy. Clint had his eyes narrowed, loaded bow pointed straight at Loki's heart. Natasha had on her usual expression of suspicion, yet Tony could see it was now mixed with shock and the smallest hint of fear. Before Tony could find his voice, Fury took a step forward into the room, somehow taking in everything in a swift glance without his eye ever leaving Tony's face.

''Would someone care to tell me what the fuck is going on here?''

XXXXXX

It was the weirdest meeting Tony had ever attended, if he could even call it that. He was stood at the head of a large black flexi-glass table situated in one of the more secure meeting rooms in the lower levels of Stark Tower, accompanied by Fury, Natasha, Steve, Clint, Thor, Dr Banner and Loki. All except the latter and his brother were sitting uncomfortably around the table, each near to bursting with their own version of what Tony supposed was frenzied energy, shooting glances between themselves, never letting their eyes wander too long from Tony's face, or from Loki, handcuffed to a chair in the corner, guarded by Thor. Fury had ordered a immediate explanation of the situation he had walked in on upstairs, and as it transpired the war was now over (apparently Selvig had said the portal opened by the cosmic cube had collapsed in on itself, or something, which had in turn caused the Chitauri to collapse like tin robots - Tony would get the details later) and civilians were no longer in any danger, Tony and Loki found themselves frogmarched downstairs _none_ too gently and forced into this meeting room, where they were joined by everyone who needed to be present.

Nobody was saying anything about the space Coulson should have occupied.

It had taken Tony a good half an hour and what felt like a whole body fucking _investigation _by Banner to convince the others that he wasn't under Loki's spell, or compromised in any way, or hurt, or indeed affected by any kind of magic. He had finally succeeded in convincing them when Bruce declared his hormone levels, gamma rays and brain functioning scans all 100% normal, and Clint had been sent upstairs to collect evidence of the shattered and now entirely harmless sceptre. Tony knew that making them believe the same of Loki would take much longer, and would compromise his entire fucking _sanity_ in the eyes of his team, but he was willing to shoot with everything he had. Call him egoistical, volatile, self centered all you want, Tony Stark knew a cry for help when he saw one, especially one that resonated so closely to his own pleas of the past. He may not play well with others, but he could damn well stand up for the underdog. That the underdog in question this time happened to be _Loki_ was unfortunate, but Tony had chosen to see it as his biggest challenge since stopping those shards of metal piercing his own heart all those years ago, and he was going to sort this out in the same way.

Indentify the wound.

Invent a cure.

Mend it.

Going on the reactions he was getting so far though, his suggestions were so far off the mark that they were practically orbiting Jupiter.

''THIS IS THE PROBLEM'' he was saying, replying to Clint's suggestion that they 'just pack the evil bastard back off to where he came from and let him rot', a suggestion he had worded in slightly varying ways more than once. He was clearly bitter about Loki addling with his brain when he first arrived on Earth.

''YOU SCREW HIM UP, AGAIN AND AGAIN, AND HE COMES BACK, AGAIN AND AGAIN, EACH TIME WITH AN EVEN MORE FUCKED UP PLAN FOR REVENGE. Because he's blaming you for the pain that he doesn't realise is coming from INSIDE HIMSELF. You give him pain, he wants revenge. And every time, somebody pays the price. It's already been Jotunheim. It was very nearly Asgard. This time it happened to be Earth. The same mess, over and over, and the same poor fucks left to clear it up each time. More to the point, what's the fucking use in clearing it up every time if there's still bits of the same mess rotting away inside him?''

OK, so Tony had all but shouted that entire speech with more contempt than he originally planned, but what the fuck, he was sick of making the same point over and over. Everyone was still staring at him, though Banners face had started to change into an expression of guarded understanding.

'Why do you care?'' Natasha's voice was smooth, pointed, dangerously calm, as was her forte.

Tony turned to her, welcoming what was in his opinion a reasonable and useful question. _Are we actually getting somewhere here?_

''It's because I see myself in him'' he replied simply, glancing over to where Loki was sat in semi shadow, noticing the god was staring at him unblinkingly from behind Thor. 'He's put up with the same bullshit. He just made….a different call. He didn't recognise the chances I did. No, scrap that - from what I heard, nobody's ever offered them to him. I spoke to Thor about him, back on the helicarrier, and what he said, it…it made sense. What Loki did. What he's done. It's as if he's me, but a me who made it out of that cave and returned home to my father, to the company, not to Pepper or Happy. He's me without Rhodey, me never having met Yinsen, me without the opportunities given to me by science, technology, money, _friends_. I could have come back from Afghanistan, burning with revenge, I could have used my genius and my resources to make everyone pay for what I'd gone through. But I didn't, because at least I knew what the alternatives were, what I had to gain. Loki's only ever known what he had to lose''.

'So what, you want to…you want to be his _friend_ or something?'' This time it was Fury who spoke, and Tony picked up on the distaste with which the Director said 'friend', and wondered whether his boss had ever had one. Probably never wanted one.

''No. I just want him to see that you don't have to be what the world thinks you are. You don't have to live up to your name. That if you hate it, you can make a new one. We're smart, people like me. People like Loki. We can see through bullshit, but that doesn't mean we don't feel it when it's been thrown at us over and over again. I want him to come up with a 'fuck you' that doesn't involve the obliteration of an entire nation''.

There was a long silence.

Then -

''I agree.'' Dr Banner was sitting up straight, and after a glance at Loki, turned back to face both Fury and Tony. 'I think…it's not ideal, and it's not going to be popular. But I know better than anyone what it's like to have a monster inside. To be reviled, feared, hated, punished. And it doesn't do you any good. It just makes you angrier. And the angrier you become, the more you hate yourself, and the more the world hates you. The only escape is acceptance, and control''.

Tony thought it was the longest speech Banner had ever given, and judging by the array of surprised faces shown by his teammates, they were just as shocked as he was.

''With all due respect, Dr Banner - '' Fury started, but Banner cut him off.

''No. Don't say the situations are different. They're not. The other guy…he's truly a monster. And believe me, I hate him as much as everyone else does. But it took me a long time to stop hating _myself. _A long time to separate 'him' and 'me'. At one time…I couldn't see a way out. I couldn't ever see acceptance. I put a bullet in my mouth and the other guy spat it out. And that's when I realised, it was live with him, or spend my whole life tearing myself apart. I went away for a bit. I sorted myself out. And now I work for the good guys. And I'm not saying Loki will ever be on SHEILD's payroll, but he deserves a chance to get off his own hit-list''.

Tony felt slightly sick. He had never heard Banner talk so openly and candidly about his condition. He'd never mentioned actually trying to kill himself. And his tone of voice…it was the same tone Loki had used upstairs, when talking about his punishment. Flat. Dead. Level. While the rest of the team were trying in vain to come up with an argument, or even a response, to the scientist, Thor moved closer to the table.

''What I hear, it makes sense'' he started, in his low, rumbling voice. 'Loki is my brother, he is not a monster. He has gone too far, and it is right that he should expect retribution, but it is also right that he has a chance to fight his demons. None of you knew him before this madness. I did, and I am confident he can be saved. You will remember, once, that I came to Earth myself – banished by my father for going too far and making the wrong choices in my own way. I changed during my time here. I learnt the difference between bravery and stupidity. I am convinced that Loki will also learn the error of his ways, if he is to be kept here on Earth and taught the ways of redemption''.

Whilst Thor was speaking, Tony had stolen a look at Loki. He had his eyes on the floor, his face taught with discomfort. Clearly his and Thor's 'unfinished business' was something that would also take a hell of a lot of time to recover from.

Fury was reclining in his chair, his face as set as stone. Natasha looked impassive, and Clint was still glaring at Loki, evidently not taken in by any of the cases made on his behalf. Tony, however, was concentrating on Steve. The Cap was leaning forward with his jaw set and his eyes attached firmly to Loki. _Ah. Soldier mode_.

''Do you feel remorse for what you have done?''

Loki looked up, uncertainty flashing across his face. It was the first time any of them had addressed him directly. Matching his steady tone to the Captains, he managed ''I regret many of my actions. Today, on Earth, in Asgard. I have not been…entirely myself. I wanted people to hurt. But now…while I fear I cannot feel remorse…in answer to your question, I can say I regret what I have done.''

Steve looked at though he was nearing the end of a massive internal struggle. Holding Loki's gaze for a few seconds after the god had given his answer, he appeared to reach a decision, although from the way his mouth twitched, it wasn't an easy one, and it probably tasted bad.

''If he is to be believed….I agree with Tony and the Doctor. There have been too many lives destroyed, too many morals broken, too much war already. Punishing the perpetrator is likely only to start another. We, SHIELD, we have the abilities and the facilities to change that. We can build an alternative future. An alternative future that had one less bad guy for us to chase. If everyone is on board…I vote Loki's sentence to be containment with the view of rehabilitation''.

Clint looked at Steve as if he were insane, but Fury was slowly nodding.

'This may be the stupidest order I ever make, but as Stark seems to have persuaded three supposedly intelligent minds that some kind of rehab programme is exactly what this crazy guy needs, I'm willing to sanction it. On a TRIAL BASIS. Any sign of bullshit, attempts to escape, any magical fuck ups, and ANY homicidal attempts, and he is booted out into the deepest, darkest corner of hell I can find. Everyone got that?''

Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. Fury's tone showed that he had reached a decision that was not to be argued with.

''And Stark - '' the Director continued, turning to fix Tony with his one good eye, '' – as you were so desperate for a pet, I'm ordering responsibility for our guest to be dumped onto your head. SHEILD is not a crèche or psychiatric ward. I understand you have enough toys at your place to keep him occupied, and more importantly, INSIDE. You will be provided with guards and anything else you require in order to 'mend' the crazy bastard. I'll be wanting video and audio surveillance on him at all times. I'll be wanting progress reports. Daily. I'll be wanting _change,_ Stark, or you might just find yourself regretting every last second of your existence''.

Fixed with Fury's steely grin, Tony was gobsmacked. The team had actually _listened_ to him - and in his opinion, they really ought to start doing that more often, how the fuck _Loki_ had been his breakthrough in this area he didn't even care to fathom – but more than that, Fury had actually _agreed_ not to punish or torture Loki. Or even harm him at all. Or send him away to someone who would. But - and Tony was still trying to let his brain catch up with his ears here – Fury had also basically ordered him to become some kind of - some kind of _babysitter_ for a magical Norse god who narrowly just escaped execution for war crimes. His _house_ was to become some sort of therapy centre. Tony hadn't exactly had a plan of his own beyond 'save Loki from more fucked up torture'; and it was accurate to say that this one had arrived straight out of thin air and smacked him right in the face.

But it made sense. The small voice in his head was rapidly catching up with the situation, and he was getting that weird burning situation in his brain again. For what seemed like the millionth time he looked over to where Loki sat, swallowed, and tried not to let it show just how shocked, exhausted, and yet strangely fucking _relieved_ he was; before doing his best attempt an easy, familiar grin.

''Hey, how about that. Looks like I got myself a lodger. You wanna go have the tour, Reindeer Games?''

If Loki appeared shell-shocked, it was nothing compared to the rest of the team. Clint looked as if he now wanted to kill Fury, Natasha had her eyes narrowed in distaste, Dr Banner was glancing between Tony and Loki with the expression he got whenever an experiment was being particularly surprising or troublesome, and Steve was opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish, evidently trying to understand how things had gone from his own support of the idea to the idea moving itself into his comrades house.

Tony wasn't paying attention to any of this, as he was trying to ignore the rush of mixed and churning feelings in his own stomach, catapulting up and down to his brain through his spine. Loki, in his house? Loki, living with him? Loki being his latest 'project', his latest 'assignment' from SHIELD? Loki, 6 feet of psychotic Norse god, rattling around in his basement? Tony could see Fury's reasoning, hell, he had been the one to put this whole scheme out there in the first place, but what the _fuck_.

Tony was nervous, and not only at the thought of Loki having a relapse and killing him in his bed. He was nervous because having Loki there was going to mean going back to places he thought he'd never have to visit again, places he thought he'd escaped forever. And that wasn't even mentioning the new places, the unchartered territories that inevitably came with all those _feelings_ he'd experienced back in the penthouse.

''Thor will also be accompanying you. Make it work Stark''.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Sorry I didn't update yesterday everyone, it was a Uni friend's 21st birthday party on Friday night and I want to forget every single minute of pain that was the resultant hangover….definitely wasn't able to edit, let alone write! After hating myself and resolving to never drink again, I am back on the writing wagon and currently faffing about with Chapter 11. I might start doing every-other-day updates from now on, as they'll probably start being longer and will include more people, and I want to make sure everyone sounds in character and blah blah blahhhhh, hope you won't mind tooooo much! I'll try and make it all super duper good :D_

_And thank you for your reviews on the last chapter, it was my favourite one to write so far and I'm so glad you all liked it!_

_Once again, DISCLAIMER ALERT: Nothing is mine. Except my obsession._

* * *

**Chapter 10. It's Alright, It's OK. **

''No Tony. You are not doing this. Tell me you are not doing this''.

Tony stared at the petite redhead in front of him, seeing the fear and confusion in her eyes, noticing the way her voice changed after the second pause from utter disbelief to desperate pleading.

''Pepper…'' he reached forward, meaning to catch her arm, to hold her, reassure her, but she pulled away, her lip wobbling and tears biting at her eyes.

''How can you – just what did you think – I can't believe – _why_ Tony!'' her voice was strangled, and Tony detected anger under the distress, anger and revulsion. He pulled his hand through his hair for the thousandth time with frustration, frustration at himself, at Pepper, at Loki, at Fury, at all of them, at everything.

''Look, I don't _know_'' he implored, searching Peppers face with his eyes, silently begging her to just listen, to try and understand, because he didn't even understand himself yet but if Pepper could, then maybe they could work through it together, and maybe he wouldn't be left feeling like he'd just ridden 8 hours non stop on the loop-the-loop at Six Flags. ''I don't know, OK? I can't explain...not properly. Not yet. All I know is, this guy's hurt, and he's screaming out for help, and if he wasn't here, he'd be getting broken into a million pieces by someone hell bent on trying to mend things without taking into account the core of the problem. He's - ''

He was cut off by the burst of laughter that exploded from Pepper's mouth, a maniacal, ragged type of laugh.

''_Mending_? Broken? This is not one of your _suits_, Tony, this isn't some – some _problem_ with one of your prototypes that you can just tinker over in your lab until the pieces fit back together. This is a _murderer_ you're talking about, a murderer from another planet, who killed over a hundred people, who killed _one of your friends, _and you're telling me YOU'VE INVITED HIM TO LIVE WITH YOU!''

Tendrils of hair had escaped Pepper's usually neat up-do and were flying round her face, she seemed electrified with rage.

'I did not _invite him to live with me_!'' Tony drew quotation marks in the air, as if to reinforce to himself and Pepper just how absurd and ridiculous that notion had sounded. 'That was Fury's contrivance, born of his infinite wisdom in – in who knows what fuckery. I _never_ suggested having Loki here. I only wanted him to be given a chance at – at some kind of rehab, or whatever, because contrary to what the rest of the world might think, I don't believe murdering someone charged with murder to teach others that murder is wrong is exactly logical! I just wanted someone to offer him the alternatives that I had. Because if you remember, I wasn't always Mr Superhero myself''.

Pepper looked as though she was about to argue back, but at Tony's last words, she closed her mouth, defeated, although her eyes were still shiny and her pupils too large for her to appear entirely calm.

''Tony, you're…that's…that was completely different''.

''Is it? Is it Pep? I was a mass murderer. I made things that went bang and killed everyone in the vicinity, regardless of whether they were innocent or not, regardless of whether they were women, children, men. I sold those things to people who didn't care either way. Don't tell me you've forgotten, because Christ, if you have, you need to give me a dose of whatever you took, and you better make it a triple''. Tony's voice had taken on the tense, disgusted tone that was reserved for discussions about his own past, a tone that Pepper had heard more than anyone, although that never made it easier.

''Tony….'' This time it was Pepper who reached out an arm, and Tony who shrugged her off, moving so his back was leaning against the wall, kicking his heel at the skirting. ''Tony, this isn't about you''.

''No, it _is_. This is about me. Even if I don't want to be – do you think I want this? I don't have a choice. Loki and me…we're similar. Too similar. And I only just got that today, and I think I'm the only one who gets it. And that's _why_ I'm doing this. I don't give a damn if _nobody_ else ever gets it. Except him. I'm going to make him get it, and I'm going to put an end to his fucked up cries for help''.

''Stop being – just stop trying to be a fucking _superhero_ Tony!'' Peppers eyes were fresh with tears again, she had moved opposite him and sunk down onto the bottom step of the staircase. ''I know what this is! You're trying to beat everyone again, trying to be the guy that made the evil guy good – trying to show that you can save more than just the world, that you can get one up on everyone else. But this is _Loki_, Tony, this isn't a fucking _game - _''

Tony was shocked, Pepper never swore. When she did….it was bad. When she did, it was usually because he'd fucked up, big time. It was usually because she was hurting so much, and from experience, it was usually Tony who had done the hurting. Directly or indirectly. Seeing Pepper like this caused Tony physical pain, and she made him feel guilt like no one else ever seemed to. _Except for himself, and now, apparently, Loki_. Watching Pepper sobbing on the step was unnaturally close to seeing Loki lose it in his penthouse earlier, and Tony felt a brief sharp stab pass through his chest – _did that mean he felt __**protective**__ of Loki?_ – before forcing the thought away, intent only on making Pepper understand, making her stop crying. This was a hundred times harder than trying to persuade the Avengers that Loki deserved a second chance. Pepper was practically family, a part of himself. She was his 'better half', she made sure he ate and didn't drink too much and looked after his diary and his company and all the other things he just couldn't pretend to care about. He needed her on board, more than anything. If Pepper was behind him, Tony could kid himself this was normal, that he had made the right call. Pepper was voicing all his own doubts and insecurities, and Tony couldn't afford to have them materialize _now_. It was too late for doubts.

''Pep….I _am_ a superhero'' he said softly, slowly easing himself down so he was sitting next to her. ''Besides, I'm pretty damn good at it. Out of everyone…you really think there's someone other than me who could tackle Loki? Come on Pep, you know they'd be flattened in a nano-second''. His attempt to cheer her up with a joke didn't have quite the effect he wanted; although she stopped hiccupping, the tears continued to fall silently from her eyes.

''It's _dangerous_ Tony. _He's_ dangerous. How do you think I feel, knowing that he's going to be in the same building as you, how do I know I won't arrive one day to find you killed in your bed and the whole of Miami torn to the ground? How can you _trust_ him, how can you stand to be near him, after what he's done, after _everything_ - ''

''He's not going to kill me. That much I'm sure of. Well, 90% sure''. He shut up, seeing the fresh wave of sobs wrenched from Peppers lips at his ill timed quip. ''Sorry, that was shit of me. Seriously though. It's fine. Or as near to fine as it needs to be. And I'm going to make it _more_ than fine. I don't trust him, not entirely, but…it took me a long time to trust myself. And I still have doubts. Loki is just one massive pile of doubt. He doesn't trust _anyone_, let alone himself. And that's how I can stand to be near him. Because I know the one person he wants to destroy above all others is himself, everyone else who gets hurt is just a by product. While he's here, there are no by products. He can't do anything to me that I haven't already done to myself. Without any toys, he'll be looking for other ways to occupy himself….and that's where I come in. I'm going to show him other ways. Give him stuff to do, stuff to think. I don't know what, and I don't know how, but…I'll figure it out. SHEILD will help. And the others…they'll be around. In time. It's his last chance, Pep. Doesn't everyone deserve a last chance?''

Pepper turned to him at those final words, recognising them, they were the same ones she herself had said to him all those years ago, on one of the nights where he'd practically drowned himself in alcohol and she found him slumped over the kitchen table, incoherent, self destructive, filled with self loathing. She could see now the spark in his eyes, the fierce determination that accompanied his words, the hammer headed resolution that told her _he was doing this_, the same look he got when fighting demons, internal or external. _Regarding Loki_, she supposed, _it was a bit of both_.

Without saying a word, she lowered her head to rest it on Tony's shoulder, and didn't move away when he wrapped an arm around her waist. She was consenting, at last, she was still reluctant, still scared, still probably doubting his sanity, still angry. But she was still there, she hadn't left in disgust, she would stand behind him as she had always done. And for the first time, Tony truly believed that everything was going to turn out OK.

**XXXXX**

_The jet had been cruising at 25000 feet for the past 2 hours, and Tony was getting restless. One more hour to go, and he'd be home…and he hadn't yet decided if he wanted to hurry up and get there or have his pilot turn the plane round and hare off as far as possible in the opposite direction. Usually, returning back to his Malibu mansion after an Avengers mission was like arriving in heaven, but this time it was different. This time, there would be no relaxing by the pool, having JARVIS fill him in about anything he might have missed, or any parties going on in the area that night; there would be no ordering take out and getting Pepper over and getting finely mashed on cocktails till dawn. No celebrations this time, because the prize had already been given. _

_And it was currently sat in the back of his plane, handcuffed and bound, staring out of the window as if looking into another world entirely._

_Which Tony supposed was technically true. _

_It was nothing compared to the far side of next century he expected to be kicked into when Pepper found out just what his prize was._

**XXXXXX**

Tony felt Pepper lean into him, and allowed himself to take the weight of her body and all the emotions that were still leaking out of her every pore, swirling around them like a blanket. Tony knew Pepper hadn't agreed with him, as such, but she had given in, for now – given him a chance to prove what he had only recently convinced himself of. All in all, it was a better reaction that he had anticipated – he'd had the shouting, the crying, the begging, the threats…but she hadn't walked out on him, and she didn't hate him. When he had felt the jet begin its descent, he had contacted JARVIS through the comms and ordered him to ring her, telling her to be round within 30 minutes. That had given him enough time to get Loki (and Thor) into his house and over to the second wing, where they were both to be staying – Loki had been given a small, relatively empty room at the back of the house, with Thor the slightly bigger one next to him; and Tony had wasted no time instructing JARVIS exactly what locks to tighten, what alerts to give him, where the younger Asgardian was allowed to go, and when, and who he was allowed to talk to. Thor had been given no such restraints, but as his primary purpose was to guard his brother, he hadn't exactly required a room by room tour either. That would come later, after Tony had introduced Pepper to his new living conditions.

Priorities. After all, although they were no longer 'officially' an item, Pepper still had a huge part in Tony's life, as his best friend, CEO and platonic 'other half'; and he barely went a day without seeing or speaking to her. If he was in New York, so was she, and he made sure if he was going to be at his Malibu pad then she got 'time off' her work schedule to join him. They fitted together, they were easy company, he knew no one like her. Which is why as soon as he was visited by Agent Coulson a couple of days ago and recruited for the latest Avengers mission, he had sent her straight to Miami, out of the way, to prevent her from harm and to prevent him from worrying about her. They had decided 'it' just wasn't working a long while ago, (Tony's ego, incessant flirting, insanely erratic work schedule and seeming inability to ever grow up each playing their own relatively large part in the decision), but Tony doubted he would ever care for someone in the same way as he cared for her. He loved her, just wasn't 'in love' with her. Thankfully, she had seen the sense in their reverting to 'just friends', and they had fallen back easily into what they had today, which was something that Tony would never take for granted, and which he knew was going to indispensible to him throughout the whole 'Loki situation'.

He bent down and brushed his lips softly across the top of her head, silently thanking her for being the one true constant that he suspected he was about to become himself, to someone who hadn't been grounded in so long he probably still felt like he was still falling. Falling down, looking up at the people he wanted most of all to save him. Tony was about to become those people, but with a difference – he was going to make sure Loki never let go again.

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**Page breakers and really don't like each other do they? Sorry if mine get confusing...the middle italic paragraph denoted with the two 'XXXXX's' is a flashback, hopefully you all got that anyway though! I tried to do lines and dashs, doc uploader said no. Gah.**


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Sorry this update took a while, I wrote the orginal draft and it was like 11 Word pages long and just seemed insane, so I had to find a place to split it and then construct a decent chpter 12 out of the leftovers...and now THAT'S ended up being about 5000 words, so it's a vicious cycle. BUT I LOVE IT. So glad that you guys seem to be enjoying it too! Thank you, againandagainandagain!_

_So without further ado, have some Loki feeeeels (^.^)_

_And say hello to JARVIS_

_And await THE MAMMOTH CHAPTER 12!_

_Disclaimer: Nothing mine, again, as always. Song: 30STM. My current favourite Frost Iron song. Maybe that's the reason for my insane word vomits..._

**Chapter 11. Stranger In A Strange Land.**

Loki was stood by the window, staring out into the distance, not seeing the smooth curve of pale sand or sparkling glisten of the ocean only a few hundred feet from him, not seeing the 'S' shaped pool practically underneath his feet, not seeing the perfect patio or the perfect stretch of perfect lawn or perfect waxy palm trees dotted in carefully planned places all around Tony's perfect garden. Not that he would have been impressed anyway, the luxury and opulence of Asgard was above and beyond anything this mortal realm had to offer, and it would have pained him to think of this, his old home, his old life. Loki had learnt long ago it was easier to stop thinking, to stop remembering, to stop mourning, because in the end it just antagonized the ache inside him, and after all, what had he actually lost? His whole life had been a lie. His father had stolen him from a place of hatred and cold, taken him into his own family, but in the end none of them had been able to take away the hatred or cold from inside Loki himself. In fact, they had all of them made it worse. Thor, his brother - always stronger, more popular, more admired, more _suited._ Thor had professed to love Loki, but like everyone else, had never seen him as his own equal. Frigga…she had always played the doting mother, but she too had neglected to tell him of his true parentage. She hadn't been there at the moment Loki had finally felt the last shred of attachment to his adopted life leave him, but she couldn't have saved him even if she was. She couldn't have made up for Odin's words, for his expression. Nobody could, because nobody apart from Loki knew just how much rested on them, and just how much damage they would do.

Growing up, Loki had always felt the shadow over himself, separating him from Thor and his father's approval, following him everywhere he went and smothering everything he did. He was younger, smaller, weaker, quieter, inferior. He had never been interested in war, or battle, or boasting, or training – instead content to sit with a book, drinking in history, astrology, philosophy, _magic_. He was fascinated by the arts of alchemy and enchantments, tricks and runes, wizardry. He was a fast learner and equipped with above average intelligence, and he poured hours and hours into learning the incantations and hand sleights that gave him the abilities and powers so intricately described in his beloved books. He learnt how to create, fascinate, teleport, vanish; he learnt quickly, and in time he was the most adept sorcerer in all of Asgard. His mischievous sense of humour meant he often used his skills to play practical jokes on his family and contempories, but never ones that were truly dangerous, that truly meant any harm. Even after everything, however, everything he had learnt and everything he achieved, he still came in second place, still ranked behind Thor in his father's eyes. In the eyes that mattered. Odin was a wise and great warrior, and he didn't see magic as Loki saw it, as a beautiful, wondrous and elegant discipline – he saw it as child's play, a hobby, not fit for a grown prince, not fit for a _king_. Thor occasionally indulged Loki, but more often that not treated his magic as an excuse to 'get his own back' after Loki had played one of his innocent tricks on his brother, a feat which usually involved Loki becoming acquainted with a few extra bruises and a few playful insults rolling round his ears, echoing through his brain.

As they grew older, Loki's tricks became less innocent and Thor's 'responses' less playful; as Loki became increasingly bitter, tired of the injustice that was his life, tired of getting no recognition for his talents. He failed to see the glint of astonishment in Thor's eyes when he conjured something out of thin air, choosing only to hear the inevitable rebuke. He failed to see the pride in his mothers face as she watched him grow taller, leaner, cleverer, and dress in the armour that befitted their family, choosing only to compare himself to Thor – who always got the shinier, heavier, more resplendent outfits, the more lavish gifts. He failed to see the genuine smiles on some peoples faces when they greeted him, choosing only to hear the whispers of Thor's friends when he was unseated in mock-battle yet again, or when he accidentally intruded on a meeting he hadn't been invited to. He failed to see the affection in Odin's eyes, the genuine concern he held for his younger adopted son, choosing instead to only pay attention to the times Odin ignored him in favour of Thor or his council or some feast or some stupid warrior.

Maybe if he had seen them, he wouldn't have forgotten to keep looking. As the saying goes, it's the little things that count, but Loki never did. They'd been there all along, and Loki had been blind to them.

Now, staring out into this strange land, he realised that although he may have opened his eyes, he was in the wrong place, at the wrong time. And all he had for company was that insufferable oaf in the room next door, and Anthony Stark, a man more infuriating and yet intriguing than Loki liked to admit. He was curious as to what Stark actually planned to do with him, now he was here; he got the feeling this particular 'sentence' he had been given by that angry guy with the eye patch was some form of bizarre social experiment, with himself as the subject. He didn't want to believe that Tony could make the pain inside him go away, because he was scared, scared of Stark failing, scared of being beyond help, scared of realising he was indeed broken beyond repair. What hope did a mere mortal have to banish the evil inside of him? But there _was_ something different about this particular mortal, Loki had recognised it even while under the influence of the sceptre. There was something about the billionaire that Loki identified with, even through his haze of confusion, and though he was no longer really sure what his identity really was anymore, he fancied he could recognise something similar to what it used to be in Stark. What he now hoped against hope it could be once more. However much he hated the thought of having to rely on someone, anyone, and _especially_ a mortal enemy of his, he recognised that if anyone could help him now, it was probably Stark.

And that was another thing. Was someone your enemy because they told you they were, or because you told yourself they were? Or because the world told both of you you were?

**XXXXX**

Pepper had left, saying she needed space, space and a long time to think and a long sleep. Tony had let her go, after checking she really was OK, and telling her more than once it was fine for her to stay. He had seen her torn at his offer, torn between wanting to protect him and be near him and have him reassure her again and again, and feeling sick and shivery at the thought of being in the same building as the captured god of lies. Tony had recognised that Pepper, infallible and more than capable of putting up with heap upon heap of his problems and his bullshit and his issues, needed more than just a few hours to bounce back from this particular bombshell. So he had relented, put her in his car, and ordered Happy to take her to the small villa nearby, technically the 'staff villa' which the company paid for but which was really Peppers own little bolthole, arranged by Tony a few days after they'd officially split to allow Pepper to be _here_ but without him thrust in her face 24/7. After she'd left, he'd padded through the downstairs level, briefly checking in on the rooms as he passed, seeing them spotless, shining, as perfect as when he left them. Reaching the kitchen, he opened the cupboard to find a new bottle of Scotch waiting exactly where he knew it would be, and poured himself a larger than life measure, topping up with ice from that machine thing in the fridge door and slumping down in a chair at the breakfast bar.

''What would I do without you, JARVIS'' he raised his glass ceiling wards, the ice knocking against the glass with a pleasing clink.

_Sir, it was Gabrielle, as always. I merely informed her of your estimated time of arrival at the house, and she oversaw the restocking of your necessary amenities._

''To Gabrielle, then'' Tony took a satisfying swig of the intoxicating liquid, savouring it's woody yet sharp taste for a few moments before swallowing. His cleaner really was a treat. Taking a second sip, he ignored the way JARVIS had intoned 'necessary amenities'; really, his AI was becoming too sarky for it's own good, had he asked for an appraisal of his drinking habits?

_Sir, may I remind you that I am awaiting further instruction on how to proceed with the processing of our guests? Our introduction was but brief and rather cursory, and I should like to know what updates to the system, if any, are required? _

Tony sighed, kneading his head with his knuckles. It had really happened. Loki and Thor, demi-gods, aliens from another realm, brothers at war, were really here. Upstairs. In his house. To stay. With approval. With _purpose_.

''The big guy, blonde, built like a brick shithouse…that's Thor. Thor…Odinson, I guess. Norse god of thunder, heir to Asgard, newly recruited Avenger, good guy. Update all records and authorize him guest status and access to everywhere but my lab. He's not exactly…_clued up_ on Midgard – sorry, Earth – ways, so he might need a rather gentle introduction to Stark City. Including you, Jarv. Don't go bellowing at him without warning or he's likely to try and attack you with that hammer of his, and the only victim in that fight will be my bricks and mortar''.

_Duly noted, Sir, records created and currently updating for 'Thor Odinson', would you like them copied to your personal file? _

''Yeah, why not. Bedtime reading wouldn't go amiss. Doubt I'll be free for many other night time activities for the near future'' Tony sighed, realising that babysitting Loki was practically going to be a full time job.

_As you wish Sir. And our second guest?_

''That'd be the man of the moment. Loki Odinson. No, wait. What did Thor say… 'Laufey' I think…Loki Laufeyson? No hang on, rain check the name. I'll ask him which he prefers. Just put Loki. Brother of Thor - '' _oh, and how Loki would despise that, identity established via his brother _Tony thought before he could stop himself, and went on guiltily ''- Asgardian - '' _and hey, even that's a sticky issue_ '' – god of mischief, errr….formerly hostile to the Avengers initiative, and that's putting it lightly, mental issues, delicate, self destructive…soon to be reformed character. Track his movements, record his speech, keep an eye on him 24/7. Same access privileges as Thor, although for gods sake sound an alarm if he ever looks like he's too attached to something that could suffice as a weapon, whatever the hell it may be. And copy everything to my personal file again. Cheers Jarv, you're a star''.

Tony had felt weird summarising Loki, he was so much more…_complex_ than words allowed. He also wasn't quite sure why he hadn't ordered for Loki to be detained, or put on bedroom arrest – after all, not less than 24 hours ago he was wreaking havoc in New York, intending to take over the planet and ordering a bunch of scaly subterranean alien weapon things to kill everyone and everything that moved, included Tony and his friends. Tony had a feeling Fury had intended Loki to be constrained; he had approved his rehabilitation, after all, not his freedom – but Tony never was one for following orders, and anyway Fury hadn't _heard_ Loki, hadn't seen him directly after the sceptre broke and the ghost of the Chitauri left his body. Fury hadn't been there when Tony had listened to Thor talk of his brother, his brother whom he at least still had faith in. Between these things, Tony had begun to get a different view of Loki, and he'd realised on the plane over here that he wasn't scared of the god. If truth be told, _Loki_ was probably more scared of Loki than Tony was.

Loki had had the Chitauri trapped in his head, and now it seemed he had all the horrors of his past in there once again. His mind was locked up, and it would take a long time for him to break out. Tony just couldn't bring himself to chain the god's body as well.

Finishing the last of his drink, Tony pushed himself up out of the stool and started for the door, before wavering – what the hell was he actually intending to do now? What was he _supposed_ to do? Sure, it was all well and good supporting Loki's obvious need for attention, _positive_ attention, but now the god was actually here, now he was Tony's 'problem', as such, Tony found himself completely flummoxed. He doubted Loki was the type of guy to sit and have a heart to heart chat with over dinner, and frankly, it had been so long since Tony had dealt with anything of this type or this magnitude that he was completely at a loss with how to proceed. Forcing himself to remember back to the time he was lying on the lowest floor of rock bottom, he tried to recall how exactly he'd escaped, what exactly had pulled him away from the brink of ruin. Three images swam through his head, becoming brighter and clearer as he realised what they were and what they meant.

Iron Man, and Pepper. And Yinsen, but he couldn't think about Yinsen, it still hurt too much. Besides, Yinsen was dead, and Tony wasn't about to let himself or anyone else die for Loki. He pushed his old friends face out of his mind, letting his focus rest on his workshop, his suits, and Pepper. Pepper, his guardian angel.

Smirking at the thought of Loki in connection with anything 'angelic', he began to see where this was going. Loki couldn't be Iron Man, and besides he already had a costumed persona going on. In a slightly creepy leather-and-metal-kinky-bondage type of way. Tony also doubted Loki was up to scratch with modern technology, given his reaction to Tony's arc reactor earlier.

So.

Not Iron Man.

That left Pepper. And seen as the actual Pepper was already taken, and Tony doubted she'd have agreed to interact with Loki anyway, he was going to have to become Loki's Pepper himself. The smirk returned before Tony could stop it when a set of utterly inappropriate and hilarious images ran through his mind as what _that_ particular relationship could look like. It was soon wiped off his face when JARVIS interrupted this rather ridiculous thought tangent to inform him that Thor was currently attempting to enter Loki's room, and judging by the snarls and irregular blasts coming from both sides of the door, if Tony didn't get up there immediately and diffuse whatever 'situation' was happening then he probably wouldn't have a problem left to be dithering about.

On the other hand, he might just have an even bigger one.

* * *

**Also, if you haven't already seen, I've started a set of drabbles, all Avengers based but some AU/Young Loki/Thor movie stuff, as part of the '30 Day Drabble/prompt word challenge' on tumblr...the first two shorts are now up, and I'd absolutely love any feedback/suggestions! Check my profile to find it :)**


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Oh my GOD have the last few days been stressful with this story. Seriously, I've copied and pasted bits around so much trying out different orders and scenes and plot paths, and it's had a paddy at every single one. I'm still not 100% happy with the way it's going, but hopefully this and the next chapter will 'flow' and make sense in context of everything else...it's really hard getting into the nitty gritty of Tony and Loki actually talking and getting on 'friendly' terms, every draft I've done seems either too rushed or too drawn out! So bear in mind I mind I might change up the structure on this fic on doc editor over the next few days, like mash some past chapters together or something, because I need to start reigning it in or it's going to drown me! Also, I promise within the next update or two we will have arrived at 'recovery Loki'. Who is going to be all sardonic and sarcastic and wonderful and yeah. MY WORDS JUST DON'T CURRENTLY SEEM TO WANT ME TO GET THERE. _

_Also sorry for that essay, and THANK YOU for reading and reviewing and alerting everyone, again and again, you make all the frustration worth it!_

_Disclaimer: The characters are Marvels and Marvels alone. Sadly. The title is based on the Slipknot song because I love it and it gives accurate feels. Honest._

**Chapter 12. Dead Memories**.

Tony was greeted upon his arrival upstairs with nearly 7 feet of angry Norse god, hammer crackling in his hand, hair wild, cloak billowing, pounding loudly on the door of the room that housed his younger sibling. Said younger sibling was clearly equally as angry, going by the way the doorframe was lit by an evil shade of green light and seemed utterly impervious to Thor's attempts to open it, and by the cacophony of enraged noises coming from inside the room.

''LOKI!'' Thor was bellowing, and by rights he was not called the god of thunder for nothing. His voice seemed to rumble through the air, battering the door as efficiently as its owners fists were doing. ''LOKI OPEN THIS DOOR! THIS IS MADNESS, BROTHER! You will talk to me, you will tell me what has happened to you! We are sent here to sort this out, and therefore that we shall, you must OPEN THIS DOOR!''

''I AM NOT YOUR BROTHER!'' Loki was screeching, and Tony wasn't sure, but it sounded a hell of a lot like the younger god was crying. Oh, fuck. It seemed Loki's emotional state was as unstable as his mental one; gone was the semi-contrite and beaten man Tony had briefly spoke with in the penthouse, Loki was clearly once again spitting mad and at the top of his tree. ''Go AWAY, Thor, I have nothing to say to you! NOTHING!''

Thor looked half mad himself and also on the verge of tears, the pure desperation with which he was trying to get to Loki etched across his face.

''Loki we _must_ talk! Everything is over, it is OK! I need to speak with you brother, we can sort out this mess!''

''I-SAID-I-AM-NOT-YOUR-_BROTHER_!'' Loki's scream had gone up several octaves, and the door appeared to actually shudder with rage, the green light becoming piercingly bright.

'Hey – hey Thor! Loki! STOP!'' Tony shouted, walking briskly down the hallway and mentally calculating the possible cost of a complete renovation job to the entire upper floor, ''GUYS! Calm down…this place is top notch you know, I'm having no…no fucking thunderstorms or magic tantrums in my house. Got that?''

Thor turned away from the door, hammer slightly raised, before seeing Tony and taking stock of himself, suddenly crumpling to the floor in defeat.

''Man of iron…you must forgive me, I want only to speak with my brother…he said not two words to me on the journey over here, and he is refusing to allow me to even see him. I will not hurt him, I am not looking to punish him – I only wish to reassure him everything is over, and ask him why this happened – I want to know how I wronged him, what happened to him, I wish him to know he is safe, and I love him- ''

Tony could hear Loki's snorts of derision over Thor's pleas, and something that sounded suspiciously like barely concealed sobs.

''Well, yeah, fair enough big fella, but I don't think Loki's quite ready for the whole kiss and make up scene yet. And I'd prefer it if the two of you didn't decimate my house while you try to persuade him otherwise''. Tony had reached Loki's room, and was standing over Thor, looking warily at the obvious magical seal around the door which reminded him that, mentally fragile as Loki was, he was still dangerously powerful and by no means 'safe'.

Thor put his head in his hands, letting Mjolnir fall on the floor beside him. Tony winced at the thud that seemed to reverberate through the very foundations of the house. ''Son of Stark…you understand my brother, do you not? You must help him…you promised to help him…he is still there, somewhere, he is the brother I knew and loved, and you must find him again…I implore you, friend…please help him. Help us''.

Thor's gigantic hand had come to rest on Tony's lower arm, and he was staring up at him, beseeching, begging. Tony felt uncomfortable; this was a family thing, _and boy was he was famously shit at those,_ but he'd got himself involved now and he didn't quite know how to handle it. What he saw in Loki was years upon years of anguish and hatred and confusion, and he didn't know how much of that Thor understood, how much Thor was responsible for, whether Loki could ever truly recover, whether Loki would or could ever show remorse. Thor had obviously forgiven Loki, but had Tony? Did understanding Loki and feeling an obligation to help him mean he'd also written off Loki's crimes? Did an explanation correlate to an excuse? Did it matter? Did he genuinely believe he could make a difference here?

Tony had so many mixed emotions about the whole situation that he hadn't worked out many answers for himself yet; whenever he tried his brain either shut down in shock at the colossal gravity and painful familiarity of the matter he was forcing it to think about, or he reverted to 'stereotypical Tony Stark', making quips and jokes and innuendos left right and centre, because then he could kid himself all this was just another part of his life, just another thing on his to do list –far from normal, but since when had he had a normal life anyway?

''Thor, I'm going to do my best buddy, but this is all pretty weird for me as well you know. I didn't exactly anticipate having two new housemates, one of whom I seemingly have to act as psychiatrist for, and consequently I've got no real plan in mind…besides, Loki doesn't exactly seem all that talkative to begin with, and I get the feeling he's going to be even less so with you around. He's angry, he's confused, he's upset, and he isn't just going to wake up one morning and start apologizing to everyone and baking them cakes. Banging on his door and telling him you love him isn't going to help until he believes it, and no offence mate, but it sounds like you're a couple of centuries late with that calling card anyway. Horse, stable, bolted and all that. The best thing you can do now is go back to your own room, make yourself comfortable and leave Loki alone for a bit. Oh, and change out of that armour, if you will, it's embarrassingly intimidating in a domestic setting and it _really_ clashes with the furniture''.

Thor looked utterly nonplussed at this, no doubt furiously trying to work out what horse and what stable Tony had being referring to; as well as contemplating what his host had meant when he said to change. Thor hadn't brought any clothes with him, he had been sent to join a battle, not start renting a room, and he wasn't aware of what constituted acceptable 'human attire' anyway.

''Err..'' he began, looking down at himself. ''If my garments displease you…I can…'' Thor began tugging at his mantle, looking to at least remove the 'drapes' as Tony had once called them, but Tony stopped him.

''No, everything. You won't be needing armour inside, and hey, anyone ever tell you it was rude to upstage the host? Besides it's over 78 degrees, you must be dying in there. I'll try and find you some sweatpants or something for now, and we'll sort you out with a new wardrobe tomorrow, I'll get JARVIS on it. Now go back to your room, shower or something – cause no offence, but you stink, sweat and blood are kind of overpowering the sweet sea air in here – and I'll bring some stuff through for you in a bit''.

Thor looked at Loki's door, then back at Tony, opening his mouth as if to protest, before closing it and slowly getting to his feet. Clapping Tony on the shoulder so hard the smaller man almost collapsed into the carpet, he nodded gravely and sighed. ''You are right, man of iron. I thank you for your hospitality. I will leave my brother in your capable hands and take a bath. I trust you mean well, friend''.

Tony breathed a sigh of relief. His home would live to stand another day, at least. However, he had a feeling Thor was going to be much easier to deal with than Loki, and getting the older Asgardian to shower and spend some time in his own company for a bit was laughably easy compared to convincing Loki to forget centuries of bullying and feeling unloved in order to recast him as some sort of reformed being.

Turning back around and glancing at Loki's door, Tony could feel heat coming off it, heat that practically _smelt_ of anger and magic and DO NOT COME NEAR ME. He briefly considered knocking, calling out, or even just trying the handle, but after a second's hesitation and a mental tally of the amount of dangerous, suicidal and completely ridiculous situations he'd got himself into in the past fortnight alone, he sighed and retreated back down the corridor, headed towards the kitchen and a second liquid aperitif. He'd leave Loki to stew until tomorrow, he simply hadn't the energy or the Dutch courage to wade into what was essentially an especially bad case of sibling rivalry. He couldn't always live life in the fast lane.

Smiling wryly to himself as Pepper's approving face swam into his head; he wondered what the fuck was happening to Tony Stark. He must be going soft.

**XXXXX**

The next day proved Tony's decision had been a good one, as when he checked on Loki's door the green light had gone and nothing immediately appeared singed or cracked or destroyed. Thor had done as Tony asked and remained in his own room, seemingly also without causing any residual damage, although from the state of his en-suite the shower had clearly taken a bit of getting used to. Tony hadn't dared go into Loki's room, but made sure the god had food provided at lunch and dinner, and he'd told JARVIS to alert him to anything that could require his immediate attention. He had no idea how to approach this whole thing with Loki, and until he did, he was quite happy for the Asgardian to stay holed up in his room, doing…whatever he was doing in there. Sleeping probably. Tony guessed waking up from some sort of mind control induced coma was similar to coming round after a particularly heavy alcoholic bender; you just had to remain horizontal till everything stopped being fuzzy.

This status quo carried on over the next few days, with Tony knowing he should at least try to attempt to talk to Loki, but at the same time submitting to his time old solution for dealing with things that were uncomfortable or especially difficult – shutting himself up in his workshop and tinkering about with his suits and his gadgets and his appliances, inventing new things and blowing existing ones up (only occasionally on purpose). Between Loki's existence upstairs, Loki's ccomplete and utter avoidance of Thor, Thor's resultant moping, and Tony finding himself actually eating regular meals (Thor liked to, and he quickly learnt that Thor in a kitchen was not something to leave unsupervised), Tony found himself living in what could only be described as The Oddest Fucking Version Of Reality He'd Ever Come Across. And he'd come across some pretty weird shit.

To his surprise however, Tony found tolerating Loki easier than putting up with Thor; the big guy simply had no idea how to engage himself with the 'mortal realm' as it were, and was a walking disaster from morning till night. The morning after they moved in Thor had taken it upon himself to make 'a light snack' to break his fast, which resulted in JARVIS ordering a new oven to be fitted and Tony spending the first few hours of his day repainting the kitchen ceiling.

The day after that, Thor had freaked out at hearing JARVIS's disembodied voice and punched a hole through Tony's living room wall, convinced he was being spied on by a would be assassin.

The same afternoon had seen the Asgardian drinking 2 litres of coke in about 3 seconds flat and experiencing his very first attack of hiccups, an occurrence which made Tony repeatedly thank whatever higher power it was that had given him the insight to install a rolling video camera throughout the house. Six minutes and 18 seconds of pure comedy gold were immediately copied to Tony's personal server, and had already hit the double figures in terms of times viewed. With and without sound.

Thor's human clothes took away most of his intimidating demeanour, and in regular house pants and t-shirts he just looked too big and too clumsy, and very, very childlike. In pure exasperation Tony had drawn up a 'lesson plan' for Thor, which detailed how to use all the appliances, a list of daily activities he could choose from, a list of chores to keep him busy (and which would hopefully teach him how to be semi self sufficient) and as a result Tony spent a few minutes every morning after breakfast telling Thor what was on the agenda that day, suggesting things that kept him as far out of the way as it was possible for him to get. Thor was immensely grateful, thanking Tony every time for being such a great friend and such a congenial host, but really, it was all a ploy to keep Thor away from pestering Loki.

Loki himself was far from domestic, but seemed to have none of the problems Thor was facing in terms of adapting to Midgardian life; when he did occasionally leave his room (clearly when he'd ascertained that Thor was most definitely _not_ in the vicinity) he moved through the house as easily and naturally as if he had lived there all his life, and Tony's gadgets and appliances didn't seem to faze him in the slightest. Tony had caught him on JARVIS's feed examining objects with apparent interest and/or suspicion on more than one occasion, but Loki didn't seem to let unfamiliarity hinder him; or at any rate he simply magicked up whatever he wanted (Tony figured this might be a sign he was 'recovering', as it were) and left it at that.

Tony had also provided him with regular clothes, as with Thor, but unlike his older brother Loki didn't look wrong in them, just…different. Less intimidating, yes, but by no means silly or childlike. He favoured black and green, same as his armour, and managed to look regal and imposing even when wearing black slim fit jeans and a fitted shirt. More than once Tony had found his eyes flitting over Loki, out of jealousy he supposed, that anyone could be that messed up and have gone through so much torment and be so tired and so worn out and yet still look like something straight from the pages of an Armani catalogue.

Pepper hadn't been back since the day Tony arrived with Thor and Loki in tow, and he'd had hardly any contact with the other Avengers; they had left on such an odd note, and Tony supposed they were busy with the huge clear up operation over in Manhattan. He'd felt pangs of loneliness at being 'left out' as it were, but deep down he didn't mind too much – Tony lived off the action, the buzz of the fight, the victory; all the background stuff and the damage limitation and the politics and the press conferences that always followed bored him to death. Besides, it wasn't as if he was totally out of the loop – Fury was checking in with him every evening, wanting Loki updates, wanting to discuss what he was seeing on the live feed pumped through to his base by JARVIS. So far the Director seemed to approve, or to be more accurate, not angry – and as this was as close to praise as Tony was likely to get, he lapped it up, delighting every day in telling Fury that no, Loki had not attempted a homicide today, no, he was not plotting more world domination, no he hadn't tried to escape. Tony could tell Fury wasn't happy with Loki having 'free reign' as he called it, but he couldn't do anything about that – Tony's house, Tony's rules, and however grudgingly he admitted it, Fury had to see that Loki did indeed seem 'safe'. Right?

However, happy as Tony was with how smoothly things were going (if you removed Thor, ever present proverbial bull in a china shop, from the equation), he wasn't naïve enough to think that this was it, that it would all be plain sailing from here. Loki might have a relapse any day. Tony wasn't stupid, he knew how long it had taken himself and how tough the struggle had been. Sooner or later Loki was going to get more…Loki like, and Tony would have to find some way of amusing the god so he wasn't tempted into any dangerous mischief or misplaced trickery. He also had to try and get him to be in the same room as Thor without any more spontaneous Hammer Time vs. Mighty Lightening Bolt circus acts.

Being on new, neutral territory seemed to have done wonders for the god's temperament, although they were yet to discuss anything of substance, exactly – Tony didn't want to push things. He got the feeling no one had ever just wanted to _talk_ to Loki before, without some kind of underlying purpose or negative reason, and it certainly seemed that no one had wanted to listen to him. He pondered many times over how exactly he was going to get Loki to submit to doing either – talking, or listening; and anyway he still had no real idea what he was going to say. He hadn't a clue what he'd imagined the result would be when he'd argued Loki's case back in the meeting room of Stark Tower, but it certainly hadn't been this demented version of Little House on the Prairie, adopted siblings included.

He also didn't know why the fuck this whole situation wasn't bothering him more, but he quickly pushed away that thought, uncomfortable scenarios were places Tony Stark created, not found himself in. Complications were only ever amusing at someone else's expense, and Tony was staying very much on the surface of this potential one. When Loki managed to banish the last of the raw nightmares and residual feelings, Tony had no doubt he was going to revert to being his sly, sardonic self, and Tony had a feeling this - this _nonsense_ would be a distant memory. But to be replaced by what? This whole thing was utter, unarguable madness. What the hell was 'normal Loki going to bring to the party? Tony couldn't spend too long mulling it over, it was just exhausting. Exhausting and crazy. He supposed he'd deal with his feelings on 'normal Loki' when such a thing actually chose to appear.

**XXXXX**

He didn't have to wait too long. Three days after Thor and Loki's original shouting match – three long, vaguely uncomfortable and unnervingly silent days that is – Tony was just about to make his fifth coffee of the evening and start sketching some blueprints for his latest tablet upgrades when JARVIS made what only be described as a nervous cough – _just when did his AI get so damn human like?_ – and proceeded to tell him that Fury was on the video comms, and that he was obliged to get Tony to talk with him, _immediately. _The disturbing way in which JARVIS seemed to mirror Fury's voice to the exact octave was Tony's only excuse for being too shocked to make up a convincingly good excuse, and a few seconds later he found himself face to face with the SHEILD Chiefs hologram, hovering a few inches above his kitchen dresser. Cursing himself for putting goddam TV screens everywhere, Tony greeted his boss and plastered on a smile, he'd already spoke to Fury at midday for gods sake, and he got the feeling such a short time between conversations could not be for any reason he was going to like.

''Stark''. Fury's voice was harsh and urgent.

''To what do I owe this pleasure?''

''Don't get smart with me Stark. _Really_ not in the mood. I've had meetings with people who go above me today, way above me, and let me tell you, I did not appreciate the amount of shit they tried to dump on my head. Shit that I, to be perfectly honest, have a hard time arguing against. Shit that involves you, that crazy ass fucker upstairs and this whole fucking sleepover club situation - _don't interrupt_''he snarled, seeing that Tony was about to interject that hey, this living situ had not been _his_ idea.

''They're suspicious. We're not getting _anything_ out of Loki. He doesn't talk. He doesn't blow stuff up. He doesn't try to escape. That guy's planning something, and he's using your house as his little evil genius cave. And YOU are just sat there letting him. I KNEW this was a bad idea, but I went along with it because I wanted to believe that just this one time, you had a fucking clue what you were doing. And frankly, I'm losing faith. So you better get up those damn stairs and find out what the fuck is going here, or I'm pulling him back in, and this time he's getting a one way ticket to having his arsed well and truly kicked. _NO ARGUMENTS STARK''_, he finished, seeing Tony's mouth working furiously, desperate to get a word in edgeways. ''Tomorrow. I want him talking or fucking begging forgiveness or _something_, or I'm sending in the guys, and it ain't gonna be pretty. For him _or_ you. Deal with it''.

And with a last menacing glare, the screen went blank, leaving Tony boiling with frustration and explanations and excuses. He spun round and slammed his cup down on the work surface, fuming. Fury wanted him to talk to Loki? Fury thought he was failing at something that he hadn't even technically asked for, something that the Director himself had shoved in his face and demanded he get on with after leaving no instruction at all?

Well, fuck him. Fuck that. Fuck all the other people at SHEILD, whoever they were. Tony was riled, and he didn't even have time to consider why – he _was_ going to damn well talk to Loki, but not because they'd asked him to, no – because he was not going to let anyone think he, Tony Stark, was a failure. Not again. He'd had enough of that.

He fucking hated being backed into corners. And he got the feeling Loki wasn't going to be too thrilled about it either.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Oh my gosh guys, your lovely reviews and comments after my mini freak out over the last chapter made me feel SO much better, you are all wonderful. And I think I've finally managed to tame things now, I've drafted Chapter 14 and things are FLOWING! So hope I won't be letting you all down now haha…._

_So yeah, this is the start of The Big Conversation. It's actually going to be detailed over this and the next chapter, as Tony decided he wanted to get drunk. And I couldn't stop him. And altogether everything ended up being 8000 words and that's just crazy, so I found a 'middle' of sorts to cut it off at! But seen as I've got the bones of the next one in place it should be going up tomorrow, so they can both be read as a pair._

_Hope you enjoyyyyy (^.^)_

_Disclaimer: Still, nothing is mine. Do I even own the alcohol here? Title inspired by the Deadmau5 song Everything Before._

**Chapter 13. Everything Before & After.**

Storming down the corridor to Loki's room again, Tony was fuelled with a sense of purpose, adrenaline and déjà-vu. Hesitating outside the door, he wondered how best to begin this spontaneous plan of action, but it seemed Loki was one step ahead and had either heard or sensed him coming, and before he could raise a hand to knock or call out, the go's disembodied voice spoke clearly and firmly.

''Go away''.

Tony paid no heed, _that was barely even effort on Loki's part_, he was not moving until he'd had a conversation. Or something. He lowered himself gently onto the floor, and sat sideways against Loki's door, resting his feet on the right hand side frame, knees bent and back uncomfortably pressed against the left frame.

''I said leave me.''

Loki sounded more agitated, clearly he had hearing as acute as a bat. Or could he see through doors? Despite his prickling agitation, Tony felt a wry smile play across his lips; he wouldn't put it past him. Whatever had happened, _was_ happening and was going to happen, Tony no longer bothered to try and deny that Loki's mind and manner had piqued his interest more than he'd previously let himself believe.

''Sorry bro, it's visiting hour. Orders from the boss himself. And you're gonna have to cooperate, or kiss goodbye to the home comforts. Fury and his cronies are on the warpath and unless you want to go back to square one, I'd loosen that silvertongue of yours a little''.

Shit. He hadn't meant to say silvertongue, that had been something Thor told him about, referring to Loki's nickname back in Asgard, the last thing Tony wanted to do was remind Loki of Thor or his past trauma within three seconds of speaking to him.

From the low snarl that he detected from inside the room, he had indeed made a bad choice.

''You dare mock me with insults of my own land? You mean to threaten me?''

Tony supposed Loki intended his voice to be full of malice, but in truth he just came across as bitter and hurt. Loki was clearly extremely highly strung and had mood swings to rival Tony's own; veering between the relatively calm and weak introversion of the past few days and these attempted outbursts of vehemence whenever he was confronted with questions or prompts from his past. It was like Loki was teetering on a very thin, very unstable wire, and Tony had to be careful not to make any sudden movements in his vicinity.

With a shiver, his analogy made him turn his thoughts to what Thor had said about what had happened on the Bifrost. Loki had been hanging on then, or hanging _off_, to be strictly accurate, and then…and then he had let go completely. But to Loki it hadn't been that simple. Those last few seconds, clinging onto his world and his life, Loki had looked for someone to grab him and pull. And no one did. In a way, he didn't really let go. Odin had let go of him, and Loki had been swallowed into a hole of betrayal and oblivion. But it hadn't been oblivion, had it; it'd been more pain, more pain that he'd even known thus far, and the product of that was here right now, a shell of a being; broken, confused, angry, hating, craving, defeated.

''You didn't have to let go''.

Tony hadn't realised he'd said those words out loud until he heard his own voice; he had been thinking so intently that he hadn't even heard if Loki had responded to his previous statement. He heard a movement inside the room followed by a sharp intake of breath, he had clearly surprised Loki with his sudden outburst.

''_What?_ What nonsense are you spouting now?''

''On the…on the Bifrost. You know. With Thor, and your father…'' Tony could feel he was wading into deep water here, deep, dangerous water filled with sharks that were likely to bit his head off. Yet he plunged on; he never had known the art of subtlety or minding his own business. And he didn't care much for either. ''You gave yourself up. You surrendered. You shouldn't have done that''.

''How dare – _what is this_ – what – he is _not my father_! I thought I told you to GO AWAY!''

Loki's voice was a low hiss, he sounded livid, shocked and livid, and Tony knew he'd crossed a line. The only thing was to backtrack NOW or carry on, as fast as he could, and hopefully he'd make it out alive.

Fuck it. He liked risks. Risks were fun.

''Ok, ok, sorry. _Odin_. With Thor and Odin. They…they didn't want you to do that. They were angry, sure, and upset. But they'd caught you. They were holding on. But you only saw that they were letting you go… and I…I was just thinking, thinking how…that was nearly me. I nearly died too. Probably should have done. But at the last second, I remembered… remembered why I needed to hold on. Remembered the people who were holding on to me. I realised I could save myself with my own hands, for myself and them. All it took was my own brain and a few bits of material that luckily were more useful to me than these…these fucking evil bastards ever expected. I put my strengths to good use, the strengths that had not so long ago seemed like dead weights around my neck. I took everything that everyone had ever thrown at me and I created a way to live, to carry on. You might not have done the same on the bridge, but…you should have done. And you can now. It's not too late''.

Tony surprised himself again with his words, he hadn't intended to tell Loki about the cave, he certainly hadn't intended to pour his own heart out. Wasn't he meant to be making Loki talk? But it seemed honesty wasn't his perogative when he was talking to the Loki, everything just blurted itself out of it's own accord. To Loki, the god of lies. _Huh, the irony_. But Tony found himself not minding; found himself actually wanting Loki to hear him, wanting Loki to listen.

''Such sentiment...''

Loki's voice was a whisper now, and much closer this time, it appeared he was standing right behind the door.

''This empathy…you say you identify yourself with me, yet we remain opposites. Enemies. You talk of my _family_, how they supposedly cared for me, yet you hate your own in the same way. You sit there, now…you pretend it is all OK, that everything has changed, that you are different. You pretend to be separate, to have your own code, something that makes up for the horrors, but they are part of you, and they will _never. go. away_''.

Tony felt a pressure on the door, and heard Loki's voice through clenched teeth, he could imagine Loki leaning there, screwing his hands into fists, tears falling from his eyes. He sounded desperate again; desperate and confused and defeated, yet still angry, and Tony wasn't sure how to respond. For the past 20 years he's taught himself to find the silver lining of every cloud, but it's clear to him now that Loki has only ever noticed the rotten core of every apple.

''You're wrong'' Tony manages, and finds to his own surprise and alarm that it is _his_ voice which is now shaking, his voice that's on the wrong side of wobbly.

Loki's laugh was no more than a particularly harsh sob, and lasted only a few seconds.

''Oh? Care to elaborate?''

Tony took a deep breath. He'd be fucked if he was going to start bawling like a baby. Hell, if he wasn't a man he'd be blaming PMS and leaving Loki to go in search of chocolate and where he left his normal emotions; where he suspected they'd been hiding for days.

''The horrors. You're wrong that they never go away. They do. Want to know how? You actually just said it yourself, you were right for this bit: they _are_ part of you. And that means you get to control them. You get to decide if they stick around or not. Yes, they try and cling on, they stick, they leak into other stuff, they try and drown you…but you keep on squashing them and fighting them. And in time, they get smaller. They don't go far, and you have to remind yourself every single day what it really means to be you, what you're worth, because if you don't, they'll come back – but just like with getting rid of them, only _you_ are responsible for letting them back''.

Loki was listening; Tony could hear his breathing, shallow and uneven. He continued.

''Look…I once thought I wasn't good enough too. Wasn't smart enough, wasn't worthy enough, wasn't _anything_ enough. My father was hard to please, and that's putting it extremely lightly. It's not that he never liked me; it's that he was indifferent to me. And I guess that's even worse. Outright dislike, you can harden yourself against. Apathy, detachment…that just fucks you up. He was so cold. He had better things to do than waste time on me, someone who would always fall short and never live up to his expectations. He didn't see I was worth the effort. No matter what I did. And goddammit, it took me a long time to convince myself I _was_ worth the effort, and that it was his loss, and his mistake. I'm clever. Genius actually. I graduated MIT at 17, I was best in every year. At everything. I was building cars when I was 6 and rockets when I was 7. But he didn't care, because he'd already done it all. He didn't need me to be proud of; all he cared about was himself and his own achievements. All the shit I took part in was all just a massive attempt to please him. It took me a long time to realise I didn't need to impress him anymore, because he was _never_ going to care. He acted like I was nothing, even when I would have given him everything''.

Tony felt as if he'd just run a marathon, his heart was beating maniacally against his ribcage and his head was pounding; classic symptoms of reliving memories that involved Howard Stark. He swallowed nervously, hating the lump in his throat, hating that his past could make him feel like this after all this time. Hating the fact that it appeared talking to Loki somehow deactivated both the plug and the filter he normally used on memories like this.

''The story of the lost boy…how touching''. Loki had clearly tried hard to sound disparaging and mocking, but the weakness of his voice betrayed him. ''Pray excuse me if I fail to weep for you. You talk of being nothing…but until you have truly seen what nothing is…until you have been lost inside of nothing…I cannot afford you my sympathies''.

Closing his eyes and pressing his fingers tightly against his eyelids, Tony forced himself to finish what he'd started, forced himself to say what was also horrendously painful to admit, but in an entirely different way. He wasn't looking for Loki's sympathies, but he'd damn well got himself into this conversation now, Loki wasn't having the last word that easily. This mess was ending, here, today, now.

''This isn't about nothing anymore. I wasn't nothing. And neither are you. That's the point. You might have been there, but you're back now, you're here, and you're somebody. Somebody with a chance. I had my chance, and I had people that believed in me. People that saw me, self destructive and abusive, and taught me how to cut the crap. They taught me I didn't need to change who I was, just needed change my attitude towards myself. And you know what, it worked. I believed them. My weaknesses turned into my strengths. My strengths got stronger. I'm not saying I'm perfect, but I am saying, at last, I'm happy. You've got to let people in, you've got to listen to them – the _right_ people. You've shut everyone out for so long you've forgotten that some of them really do care. Thor cares. Your mother cares. Your father, for all his faults, cares about you too - in a way mine never did. Odin's made mistakes, fucking planetary sized ones, I get it - but he still loves you. My father couldn't even muster up the energy to love. Yes, you've been a little shit, but people are still willing to believe in you. And as long as you have that, you're never nothing and you're never truly lost.''.

He felt shaky, he wasn't used to heart to hearts and he wasn't used to being the shoulder to cry on. And he was shocked at the part of him that had almost said 'me included' after 'people' in his second to last sentence. Almost said. He did believe in Loki, of course he did, or he wouldn't be crouched uncomfortably on the floor spilling out his whole life story in an effort to make Loki get a grip on his own; but still. Admitting that to Loki came dangerously close to admitting he cared for Loki. And he'd like to get that grey area coloured in in his own mind first, thank you very much.

There was no answer from Loki, although if he was brutally honest Tony hadn't really expected one. What was Loki going to do, suddenly rush out and hug him because he admitted to having daddy issues too? Go and start chatting to Thor like nothing had happened and demand he take them both back to Asgard so he could tell Odin he loved him? He'd come to talk to Loki, and he'd talked until he had nothing more to say. He'd given Loki everything now. It was his call. If Loki couldn't see what Tony was trying to tell him, then…then maybe he couldn't be reformed. Maybe it would be best to hand him over to be punished. The thought made Tony's stomach squeeze painfully, and he couldn't quite bring himself to move away from the door, so he remained sitting there uncomfortably cramped against the frame until the shadows on the floor started getting longer and the light started getting dimmer. He'd done what Fury had wanted, he'd done more. He'd shown Loki the most vulnerable parts of him, that was _not_ something he did lightly – in fact he couldn't remember talking to _anyone_ outside of the Avengers, Rhodey and Pepper in this way before. It scared him, but it didn't feel wrong. And that just scared him even more.

There'd still been no sound from inside the bedroom, and Tony wondered briefly if he was still in there, before the dismissing the thought, it was stupid – Loki might not enjoy being Tony Starks houseguest right now, but where else did he have to go?

Finally pulling himself to his feet, Tony wandered stiffly downstairs to his workshop, stopping off on the way to grab a bottle of whiskey and a fresh glass. He knew when to bother enticing sleep, and unsurprisingly, this wasn't one of those times. What kind of time it actually was, he'd be damned if he had a fucking clue.

**XXXXX**

The first chinks of daylight that crept through the window slits and into the workshop reflected off hundreds of bits of metal, fibreglass, tools and work surfaces before continuing to make their way slowly across the room, revealing a half empty bottle of amber liquid stood next to a glass tumbler, a tumbler which was holding a small drop of the same amber liquid and being clutched by a worn and oil smudged hand. This hand belonged to an arm, an arm with the sleeve of some stained and burnt overalls rolled up to the elbow, an arm that was attached to a slumped shoulder; the shoulder of a man hunched over his desk, eyes half closed and mouth dry and hair sticking up at every angle possible.

Tony Stark hadn't been to bed that night, and he couldn't even say he'd slept. More, passed out in a semi-drunken, semi-exhausted stupor at 5am, fingers still curled around the substance that happened to be his escape, his pleasure, his worst and most addictive habit. He had recovered from being an actual alcoholic years ago, although he was definitely still 'a man who liked his drink' (however much he told himself these were different people); but he hadn't been on an all night bender in a long time. A long, long time. And he'd done this one alone. Which made that 'long time' even longer.

Mumbling something incoherent and shifting slightly in his chair, he attempted to open his eyes, peeling away at the scratchy layer of tiredness that begged him to leave them closed, before clearing his throat, wondering who had replaced his tongue with the entirety of the Sahara desert without him noticing. As he blinked, becoming accustomed to the silvery pale light of day, he noticed the bottle in front of him and smelt his own exhale of breath, the jarring, sickly scent of alcohol that burned and twisted through his nostrils and made him abruptly aware of the stabbing pain currently attacking the centre of his forehead. Fumbling about in his desk draw for the bottle of water he knew he kept there, he squeezed his eyes together again, attempting to rid himself of the all too familiar blurred vision, and dragged a hand roughly through his hair.

Locating the bottle of water and throwing it down his throat, Tony wiped his lips and staggered to his feet, gripping the back of the chair in his unsteadiness and waiting until everything stopped swaying before attempting a strange walk/shuffle hybrid over to the door. Memories of the previous night were slowly coming back to him, foggy at the edges but just about clear enough to discern, each making his headache spasm painfully as he tried to focus.

_**~the previous evening~**_

He'd had a few shots of whiskey to take away the bad taste his earlier words about his father and his childhood had left in his mouth, and searched for something to distract him, anything to take his mind off his emotions. He didn't 'do' thinking about emotions for this long, unless the ones in question were related to humour, sarcasm and excessive wit, in which case he felt _entirely_ comfortable. Seen as he didn't feel very witty or funny, and there was no one around to be sarcastic to, he'd opted for his second crux, his true calling –making stuff. Cutting things and moulding things and burning things and designing things, things that he could give his all to, things that required nothing back. He'd started tinkering with his suit, getting the last of the scratches and dents out from the battle in New York, but he couldn't get Loki entirely out of his mind. Because Loki appeared to be one of those things that he _did_ need something back from, as much as it confused and annoyed him to admit it. Silence wasn't good enough, he couldn't figure out silence.

He'd thought of Pepper and Yinsen and Rhodey, the three people who he had relied on, who brought him back from the brink, who believed in him and trusted him in a way no one else ever had, in the way he always wanted his father to. They had become his new family; had given their life to him, in different ways. Yinsen had literally sacrificed himself to give Tony a chance, to give him a new start, and to this day it still blew Tony away to think of just how much love and faith his friend must have had in him to do that. Yinsen hadn't given up when he died; he had given Tony a gift. And Pepper and Rhodey were the ones who stayed with him and taught him how to cherish this gift, day after day, month after month, year after year. He owed his everything to all of them, and he loved them equally as he had no other. And they, in turn, loved him, and this was perhaps the most important factor.

He'd told Loki that things got better because people had cared for him. That Pepper and the others had helped him because they loved him, admired him, believed in him, _wanted_ to help him. He had let himself be helped because he saw that they'd meant it.

He'd also told Loki the god still had people that cared for him too, that he had to look through his barriers and see who they were. Had he included himself in those people? Why was he even thinking like this? Why did it matter to him, really, if Loki accepted peoples love or not?

He'd realised with ongoing, burning clarity that he couldn't go on pretending that he was helping Loki just because they'd had similar shit happen to him, because he felt sorry for him. That had been the original incentive, sure, but now he realised it was something more. It had to be something more and Tony didn't know when the something had started, but it was definitely here now, and he could see it as clearly as he could see the wires he was examining in front of him.

_He cared for Loki._

And that was that. He'd said it. Said it inside his head, to himself, but he'd still said it. He fucking _cared_ about this, he _wanted_ Loki to come out from under his mountain range of crap, he _wanted_ Loki to reform. He'd always thought Loki _could_ do it without giving much though to why he _should_. Beyond the obvious, it's-safer-for-the-entire-9-realms-and-no-one-likes-to-feel-bullied thing.

This proved to be exactly the incitement his body needed to start a full blown panic attack, his brain bypassing logic and catapulting itself into a freak out of epic proportions, his hand dropping the bit of suit-arm he was polishing, and his legs sitting him down in his chair so he could process this from a more stable perspective. A more stable, alcohol soaked perspective.

Hearing the semi-hysterical noises bubbling out of his mouth that in some parallel universe could probably pass for laughter, he'd found himself shaking his head furiously, a million thoughts bouncing off the inside of his head one after another. The laughter had stopped when he'd realised he didn't actually find any of them funny.

Because he'd realised that however bizarre, and fucked up, and completely _mental_, and utterly unexpected this turn of events was, it didn't make him want to give up. It didn't make him want to run in the other direction, screaming, it didn't make him want to forget Loki ever existed and to never see his face again, even though that's what he usually felt about people who confused him and who demanded too much from him. This time, he wanted to actually give Loki what he asking for and he wanted Loki to _know_ he wanted to give it.

And because he couldn't just barge upstairs again and be all _hey Loki, and another thing, I actually care too, yes me, really, ok bye _he'd reached again for the bottle of whiskey and proceeded to focus on nothing more than the noise the liquid made as it splashed into the glass and the tickling burn it gave as it trickled down his throat. One, two, three, five, seven shots. He needed numbness. Every fibre of him seemed to be screaming with questions and Pepper wasn't there to explain it all to him in her calm balanced voice and soothe him and make him go to bed and convince him he hadn't gone completely insane.

But then again, he didn't need her to convince him of anything, he knew he hadn't gone insane. Well, not in the strictest sense. This whole situation was fucking insane.

Sometimes, he really, really hated his perfect abilities of intelligence and insight. They were only fun when he was analysing other people, not himself. _Fuck being such a goddam genius_, he thought, _and fuck Loki for being so, so __**Loki. **_ And he'd proceeded to pour and demolish shot number 9.

_**~return to morning~**_

Ah. Right. Yes. And Number 9 had turned into Number 10 and Number 11 and he'd succumbed to that warm fuzzy feeling of intoxication, concentrating only on the lightness of his head and the heaviness of his limbs. It was a blessed relief, blessed but temporary, because now he was awake again and he had the most screaming hangover and all the feelings of the previous evening had returned and they were stabbing at his already agonising headache and he felt like utter shit and he hadn't decided if he wanted to throw up yet or not and god_dammit_ he needed a coffee.

Grunting incomprehensibly, he staggered out of the workshop and made his way to the elevator. Coffee was first on the agenda. He could deal with coffee. Everything else would just have to wait.

* * *

_Just a clarification point in case my page breaks aren't sufficient to explain the time changes: Firstly it's evening, then Tony wakes up in his lab hungover, then he recounts the night for us, then finally he's back in the to his morning hangover, staggering up the stairs for coffee. I really hate how the page breaks are so weird on this site! _


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: You guys you guys! I have had some LOVELY AND WONDERFUL reviews since posting that last chapter, and I am so so grateful and happy and I love you all! Sorry it's been so long since my last update, but I went to visit my boyfriend for a long weekend and so didn't get chance to write! So without further ado, I give you here and now, PART 2 OF 'The Talk'! Which is actually a separate talk, but it's THE The Talk. WE CAN HAVE SNARKY LOKI AND FROST IRON WORD SEX FROM NOW ON! Well, gradually…I think you'll all have realised by now I don't rush things. But they're definitely and absolutely available for future use. _

_I really really hope this chapter seems plausible and not too OOC, I struggled for aaages to get them to this point where they agree to work together and thus open up the doors for frostiron (a whole other kettle of writing fish, eeeep) and this ended up being the way that seemed most in line with plot/previous chapters…. I THINK it works…? At least I hope it does. _

_(If it IS massively weird or off the mark please do let me know. I'm still scared of it every time I read it back!)._

_Disclaimer: Not mine. Marvels. All Marvels. God I love Marvel. Title from song of same name by Arcade Fire. _

_(One more thing – it flows much better from the start if you reread the last line or so of the previous chapter. The first line of this is such a syntactical twin.)_

* * *

**Chapter 14. Ready to Start.**

It seemed that everything else hadn't wanted to wait. In fact, to Tony's abject shock and rapidly increasing heart rate, it seemed that 'everything else' had decided to lean against the breakfast bar, long fingers wrapped delicately round a steaming mug of something, frown present and directed at the newspaper laying in the middle of the work surface. Tony didn't remember ever asking for a newspaper to be delivered; he assumed JARVIS must have taken it upon himself to order one, although he was yet to figure out how the hell it found its way to the kitchen every day. Had JARVIS suddenly become corporeal one day and just never bothered to let him know? He felt another spasm cross his head as he tried to fathom this whole ridiculous scenario out; he _really_ shouldn't be confronted with stuff like this before coffee.

Talking of 'stuff like this', he also really didn't want to have to deal with Loki so soon, not until he'd slept off his disgusting hangover and at least given himself a chance at getting his own feelings in order. He knew he had to have a follow up to yesterdays conversation with the god, but doing it with the residual effects of over half a litre of Scotch in his system coupled with some very odd and very new and very scary feelings was a ludicrous notion, even for him. This wasn't going to be like giving a press conference whilst still technically 'under the influence', it was going to be like detonating a bomb. And he'd seen enough of that happening to last him a lifetime.

Loki raised his head at the appearance of Tony and looked for a second like he was about to say something, before ostensibly changing his mind and dropping his eyes, apparently not sure how to proceed. Tony didn't yet trust himself to make a noise that would be discernible as an actual word, so he simply shuffled further into the room, grabbing hold of the other side of the breakfast bar and attempting to settle his slightly woozy gaze on Loki. He hoped Loki wasn't going to demand much from him, because honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if he collapsed any minute now. However, Loki merely continued to stare at him and seemed content to do so, and in the end Tony couldn't wait any longer. In a voice that sounded as bad as he felt, he managed a pretty impressive frog-like croak, his throat scratching painfully at the sudden abuse.

''JARVIS, coffee. Black. Extra strong. Large. Now''. He slumped onto a stool, not caring if he was being watched or judged, he needed caffeine. That bitter, beautiful, remedial poison.

_As you wish, sir._

The AI was used to Tony's morning routine. And his hangover routine. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the two weren't that different.

The beeps and whirs and hiss of the automatic coffee machine built into the units sounded like gunfire to Tony's sensitive head, but he soon smelt the rich aroma and restorative powers wafting over to where he sat, and within seconds he was nursing a bowl sized mug of his favoured medicine. Taking almost half the measure in one gulp, he felt his mind stabilize a little and his vision sharpen. After breathing in the fumes and taking another few sips, he finally felt marginally more able to confront the situation at hand, and finally drew his gaze up to meet Loki's, slightly unnerved to find the god was _still_ staring at him.

''Morning''.

Well. You couldn't go wrong with that, could you? 'Morning' was fine. Morning was safe. Morning wasn't awkward.

_Fuck, morning was awkward._

Loki blinked and glanced quickly down before reverting his eyes to Tony's face. He attempted a sort of nod, brief and stiff and unsure, or at least that's what Tony supposed it was, it could have simply been a twitch.

''M-morning. Stark''.

''Please. Tony. Too early for formalities''. Tony's head was still spinning, but much slower and with much less centripetal force. His words lacked most connectives, but they made sense and were all in the right order, so he supposed he wasn't doing too badly so far.

''Tony.''

Loki looked down once more, fingers worrying at his cup. This was strange. Seeing Loki nervous was….weird. It looked wrong. And hearing 'Tony' from his lips…that was weird too. It seemed oddly familiar and yet slightly ridiculous at the same time.

''I need to speak with you, I've been thinking over what you said – what you said last night''. The words fell from Loki in a rush; clearly he wanted to get them out before he lost his courage.

''Mmm?''

Tony was wary, this was setting itself up to be another Deep Conversation, and he had barely finished his first mug of coffee. Pushing the cup across the work surface to the machine, he hoped JARVIS would get the message; 20 seconds later a freshly brewed measure was dispensed and safely back in Tony's welcoming grasp. Loki was flushed and his eyes bright, his words seemed to be causing him great effort and embarrassment to get out.

''I must confess I am slightly…slightly confused. As to your intentions. You sounded…you sounded sorry for me. Like you wish to help me. And I…I guess…I'm surprised that's all. Surprised that you want to, after –after everything I did. I invaded your world with an alien army; I killed your people. I know you think I deserve help…but…why _your_s ?''

_Ah, way to spring a loaded question_.

Tony sighed inwardly. It was happening. Loki was going there. He really, really didn't want to do this now. This was too much. He'd only just realised himself how weird his own feelings were, and now Loki wanted him to _explain_ them to him. Loki, the reason he felt so weird and bizarre in the first place. Loki, the one person Tony had never, _ever_ expected to be having this kind of conversation with. He wanted to leave, he wanted to sleep, he wanted to save his answer for later, when he'd had time to come up with one. But even through his pained haze he could see it had taken a lot for Loki to come down here and say that and maybe this was finally the start of something and maybe this was what they both needed and maybe he could work it out as he went along and _oh for fucks sake Fury__'__ll be calling soon expecting everyone to be playing Happy Families or something_. He really did owe Loki a response, even if it wasn't going to be a very satisfying one.

He shrugged.

''What can I say…I've never been one for doing what people expect of me. Or doing what everyone tells me I should. I tend to crash headfirst into things and if they work, I run with it. If something interests me…I give it a go. I guess you interest me''.

There. That wasn't so bad. That didn't sound too weird. _Did that sound too weird?_ Tony felt like he was back in second grade, trying to avoid admitting he fancied someone by saying they 'were OK, I suppose'. Which was stupid, he didn't_ fancy_ Loki, for fucks sake. No matter how good the guy looked in mortal clothes.

''Besides, it pissed off the team. For a bit at least. And it's definitely pissed off SHEILD. And that's _always_ entertaining''.

Arggh, oh god, he was back on the flippant remarks and they meant he was either hiding something or bored or scared. And he hadn't the energy to be bored or scared. What was this morning. How was this his life.

Loki, to his credit, ignored this last remark.

''I'm not so…accustomed…to people wanting to help. To people being 'interested' in me.''

The blush was definitely back. Great, it seemed Tony's only comfort was that Loki was finding this as awkward as him.

''People have always been so…so suspicious around me. Or scared. Or simply indifferent. I spent a lot of my time invisible, and when people did notice me, they turned away. I only ever wanted to be seen. Seen as an equal.''

Loki now looked as though he regretted ever starting this conversation. He stared down at the ground as though he couldn't decide whether he wanted to hit it or for it to swallow him up.

''Tell me about it''.

The invisibility thing has struck a chord again with Tony, that painful cord that had resurfaced last night and wasn't making this morning any better.

''My dad never noticed me unless he could use me for something; growing up, I was just another one of his creations. He even called me that once. _His greatest creation_. Like he could just wheel me out when he needed me, like I didn't need care or affection, like I was just another money spinner, just another machine''.

He downed the remainder of his coffee, the nasty taste had returned. Loki's face was twisted, and Tony heard him mutter _'just another stolen relic'_. Go figure, another particular painful memory they shared. If it were anyone else Tony would have reached out and grabbed Loki's shoulder or something, anything that signified _hey, I know, it's OK bud, it sucked, but it's OK _ in acceptable man speak.

But this was Loki and he wasn't even a man and it as a result it absolutely definitely wasn't acceptable. Instead they both kind of swallowed and nodded and glanced up at the same time; happening to catch each others eyes. Loki's were glistening again and so dark and so green, and Tony couldn't help but remember them when they were icy blue and hard and mean. That Loki seemed like a million miles away from this one, and Tony felt strangely emotional thinking about that, probably because he was the one who saw the transition and he was the one who truly understood what it meant and he is now the one who's left with the green eyed Loki trying to figure out how the make the rest of the world understand.

The silence was getting heavy again and beginning to be uncomfortable, and Tony's head was now buzzing with a caffeine injected hangover, which was slightly better than a caffeine lacking hangover, but only just. Through the buzzing came a fine thread of a thought, a thread that Tony grabbed onto and tried to unravel because he could tell it was something important and something he probably needed to say now because it seemed like kind of the right environment and anyway the quicker this conversation was done the quicker he could actually catch some sleep. He frowned, willing the thought to come closer, willing his mouth to make sense of it. Thinking about Loki's blue eyes had reminded him of it, it was something to do with the Chitauri, the sceptre, the mind control thing…the arc reactor…_that_ was it. Loki had originally starting conversing with him instead of killing him because his trick hadn't worked, he'd wanted to know Tony's secret. And since he'd been all Hulk-cured he hadn't uttered a word about it. And subconsciously Tony had been thinking how odd that was.

And because no one else was saying anything and because he had nothing to lose, Tony plunged straight into the matter before it melted away again.

''Hey, uh, Loki? I just wanted…I guess I want to ask you something in return. Something that's been bugging me. Back in the penthouse, when you were all…before you were 'you', you tried to use the sceptre on me, and it didn't work. And you got a bit, uh, obsessive. You wanted to know why and what was different about me. And then you uh, changed into real you, and you haven't asked since''.

Apart from the confusing amount of 'you's and the dodgy glossing over of the Hulk attack, Tony thought it vaguely sounded as if he were attention seeking, but he did that so much anyway it no longer bothered him whether people thought he was or not. Most of the time they were right anyway.

Loki looked up and fixed his eyes on Tony, he seemed surprised at the question and Tony wondered if it was the first time Loki had remembered as well.

''Oh – yes- yes I do remember, sort of – my head's a little fuzzy when I concentrate on the Chitauri induced memories, but they're still my own, I can see them clearly enough. I detected a sort of…magic in you, a magic that repelled my attempts to control you. An obviously I was curious. You were mortal. Mortal magic, I think you call it '_science_', is not generally powerful or developed enough to have an impact on Asgardian or other worldly magic. But more importantly, it was providing a barrier between you and me. And for the first time…I saw a glimmer of escape. Even when I was under the Chitauri's control, I could still feel bits of me. The old me. They were the bits that hurt when they tortured me. And I thought…I thought if you'd found a way of stopping people getting inside your soul, inside your head, then I had to discover what it was. That's why I was so desperate. It hardly matters now.''

Tony was flummoxed. He'd never expected Loki's original reaction to him to be because Loki was _scared_ and saw Tony as a way out. He'd kinda just assumed it was just Loki having a paddy at not getting his own way again. But what Loki just said…that was _interesting_…especially the bit about mortal science being a version of Asgardian magic. Tony had bristled at 'under developed', but then rationalized to himself that he was the cleverest technological genius in the entire world, he really couldn't begrudge the higher achievements of a whole other realm. Well, at least not too much.

And maybe it was the coffee or the whiskey or the lack of sleep or the sheer bloody mindedness of Tony Stark's whacked out brain, but he felt himself suddenly wanting to tell Loki everything, about his inventions, about the arc reactor, what it was, what it meant. Whether he was driven by pure narcissism or the need for validation or what, he didn't care, he wanted Loki to see, to understand, even though the god didn't technically need to anymore.

Pulling his t-shirt up, Tony revealed the circular lump in his chest and watched Loki's eyes widen; he enjoyed seeing peoples first reactions to the glowing mass protruding from his sternum, surrounded by deep blueish vein-like patterns fanning out from the perimeter. Loki stood up straighter and raised his gaze to Tony's face, questioning, confused, intrigued. The way he kept flicking his eyes back down to examine the reactor was kind of…intimate, and Tony felt the faintest quiver of concern in his stomach; he was basically giving Loki a step by step method to kill him, but this feeling disappeared as quickly as it came - he had a pretty accurate radar for danger and he hadn't detected any aimed in his direction from Loki since they arrived here. And anyway, this was _not_ intimate, this did not have to be weird, Tony was not doing this because of any 'feelings'. It was simply a return of favour, because Loki had been honest with him and that must have been a pretty big deal for a god of lies.

_A very large pretty big deal._

When he'd finished his explanation, and Loki had asked all the questions he could think of, they both sat down on opposing stools, aware that if it hadn't already, something definitely had changed now. Loki had all but accepted Tony's offer of help and hospitality, and in turn Tony had exposed his weakest side to Loki. And they were starting to feel…familiar around each other, it wasn't stilted anymore. They'd had a _conversation_. Technically two. About actual _stuff_. Given the very few people who either of them had ever talked about _stuff_ to, this practically made them friends. If that still wasn't slightly weird and slightly…unfitting. 'Colleagues' was wrong, because Loki wasn't an Avenger or helping him with Stark Industries. Although, if Tony could somehow persuade the god to teach him about magic, if he could learn how exactly it was related to science, if he could somehow harness it, even a bit of it….he was digressing. He had to get used to Loki being around first, before asking him to enter into some kind of partnership. He had to take things slowly. This brought him back to the issue at hand – what exactly Loki being 'around' was going to mean. Describing him as a 'guest' also seemed wrong. 'Housemates' sounded too shallow and reminded Tony too much of being at MIT. Definitions would have to come later. This wasn't exactly a situation you found in a ready marked box.

Speaking of housemates, Tony suddenly realised his hangover was definitely missing something loud, clumsy and vociferous.

''Where's Thor?''

He was surprised at the length of time he'd been talking with Loki without the god of thunder interrupting, either by intention or accident. Although he should have realised something was up, Loki would never normally have spent so much time out of his room for fear of being subjected to more violent declarations of love from his overbearing older brother.

Loki smirked, the first real hint of a playful smirk Tony had seen on the gods face since they'd been there, and it was so powerfully _Loki_ that he was almost taken aback. Well, what he assumed Loki was like, he'd never met Loki before his fall, but he'd heard enough stories and he'd done enough research and he'd seen enough glimpses over the last week to hazard a guess at what had been underneath the frosty eye disease. The smirks Loki had given to Tony in the penthouse had been full of malice, this one was simply mischievous.

''I have enough of my magic recovered to be able to execute a simple, ahh, _desire_ that Thor should sleep late today. It was the least I could do, he must be incredibly exhausted after a whole week on Midguard…''

Tony grinned and bit back a laugh. Loki with a sense of humour was a vast improvement on any of the Loki's he'd seen previously. Even vulnerable Loki. He was still working out his reaction to vulnerable Loki. But sarcastic Loki, that was easy. He pushed himself off his stool and stood up, a crazy idea slowly forming in his mind. Forcing himself to sound nonchalant, he tried to match Loki's tone, not wanting to tip this weird but actually quite pleasant balance they seemed to have arrived at.

''Excellent thinking…I could do with learning that trick. You fancy looking a little further into this magic/science thing? Like a project. Together. I'm a quick learner. Earth won't be 'underdeveloped' for much longer. I Tony Stark, will advance technology by a whole millennia, a feat only previously attempted by, er, Tony Stark…''

_So much for taking things slowly. How long had that lasted, 30 seconds? _

Loki smirked again. He was incredibly grateful for Tony's apparent inability to remain serious for longer than 10 minutes at a time, he wasn't used to opening up and being honest and letting people get close to him. He could sense that Tony wasn't either, he could tell the man had built up a collection of snarky comments and jokes and clever comebacks and intelligent insults just the same as he had, because they constituted a wonderful mask, a thick surface, and no one could see what was happening underneath. Except for each other. And because of some incredibly bizarre and insane chain of events, they had found themselves thrown together, left to sort out the mess that he had caused and Tony understood. No one had really understood his mistakes before. He didn't know how things was going to pan out from now on, didn't know where things stood, where he stood, what would happen to him. He wasn't sure how things were going to work with Tony, but for the first time in what seemed like centuries, he was being offered help, offered a hand of almost…_friendship,_ a genuine offer, and he wasn't pushing it away or hiding from it. He was willing to accept it, willing to accept living with this strange and intriguing mortal man who was professing to be his saviour. In addition, this mortal man sounded genuinely interested in his magic. Admiring, even. It had been a long time since Loki felt admired.

Regardless of all other things, regardless of what it actually was, 'this' looked like it could actually be quite fun. Or interesting, at least. He'd go with interesting.


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: Here's a little smidge of plot development for you, Tony is a man with a plan! Also, I've currently just about finished the bare bones of the following chapter, which is shaping up to be an absolute BEAST, with a million bits of dialogue and just about every character possible demanding their 15 minutes of fame. It's (obviously) the sequel to this chapter, so if it seems a bit short/not very well explained here, don't fear, ALL THE WORDS are coming shortly! As soon as I've edited the 7300 word monster that is...  
Also, so glad people seemed to like the previous chapter and not think it was too OOC! Very reassuring, thank you all dearests! xD xD_

_Disclaimer: Characters. Not mine. Technology: Not mine. Plot: Kind of mine. I think? Title, from part of the film score of the movie by Alan Silvestri. Because sometimes only the ACTUAL Avengers music will do!_

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**Chapter 15. A Little Help.**

''_For – fucks – sake_! God- _damn_ it!''

Tony was lying on the floor of his workshop, arms bent at unnatural and painful angles, hips digging into the cold polished surface of the tiles and teeth gritted in frustration. He was trying to wire a particularly tricky and intricate part of the Sonic Borer Mark 1, a new low heat drilling method for deep sea oil rigs that had been his latest commission before the whole Avengers Assemble mini break last week. After burning his finger and failing to get the wires to fuse for what felt like the millionth time, he crawled out from under the casket, throwing his soldering iron back onto his desk and clutching his left hand where a shiny red lump was throbbing and stinging. He was already behind schedule on this; he didn't have the time or the patience to put up with it misbehaving. Being the latest, richest and most technically adept pioneer in green and eco energy, Tony Stark had deadlines to work towards, deadlines that would arrive regardless of whether he was entertaining two Norse gods in his house, one of whom required his constant attention and one of whom stole it in a different way altogether.

Thor was still finding life on Midguard a challenge, and was bumbling through the days seemingly content to remain as adroit as an 8 year old child, whereas Loki…Loki demanded Tony's attention unknowingly, Tony found himself looking forward to the hours when Loki would come and hang out in the living room after Thor had gone to sleep, listening to Tony moan about his work, drinking it all in and occasionally asking questions or offering ideas. He was a distraction through no effort of his own; though mostly a welcome one – Tony was surprised at how much the god had understood of Earths technology; whether he had picked it up at lightening speed or already had knowledge of it was anybodies guess. Tony wouldn't have put either past him.

As a result, his productivity rate had slowed considerably over the past few days; what with having to constantly check up on Thor and getting tangled up in discussions with Loki that invariably went off at so many tangents that Tony more often than not forgot what he was originally doing and started tinkering with something else because of an idea that had suddenly seized him during their conversation. Loki was talking more and more as every hour passed, he seemed content in Tony's company, and had more or less completely healed from his New York injuries –physically, at least. The mental scars were still cutting pretty deep; the most telling sign being that Loki and Thor still had not had anything which could be described as a conversation since being at the villa, and Tony was yet to even see them in the same room. He'd wondered briefly if this was ever going to be resolved; he was getting to the end of his tether with Thor's moping, but he was loathe to even bring up the subject with Loki – he was happy with the new status quo, would even go as far as to say he was enjoying the younger god's company, and he didn't want to risk upturning the basket. Or upsetting the nest. Or whatever the hell that saying was.

Tony was also curious and slightly hurt as to the lack of contact by any of the Avengers, or Pepper – the only contact he had with anyone who wasn't Loki, Thor, JARVIS, his cleaner or the takeaway delivery guy was with Fury, and that regular evening conversation remained as pleasant as it always had been. Fury was treating him with barely veiled suspicion as well as his usual disdain ever since the night after Tony and Loki's 'breakfast chat', apparently hearing what he had asked for – a development – wasn't actually good enough, and Tony was being 'monitored' in order to check that Loki hadn't brainwashed him and was planning on stealing all of Stark Industries secrets, secrets that linked very heavily with SHEILD. Tony supposed it _was_ strange to hear that he and Loki had established some form of 'mutual respect', and were even semi-working together, but as he had told Fury – what the fuck was he supposed to be doing? Wasn't this what everyone had wanted, when they all agreed to send Loki here in the first place? Wasn't this better than silence or enmity?

The bottom line was, Tony smelt hypocrisy and distrust, and he hated it. He hated that Fury had somehow managed to rub off his own reservations on Tony's friends, because why else would they be completely ignoring him? Why else would Pepper be ignoring him? Sure, she'd been upset, but it had nearly been a whole week since he had seen her. He hadn't even had a phone call, and that wasn't like Pepper. He hated that he was being cut out. He would have hated it purely from his own point of view anyway, but he especially hated that even now, Loki was still being viewed as dangerous, as a threat. He'd so passionately told the god that there was a chance, there was hope, he could recover, he could change – and what the hell was the point if no one was willing to see that? If no one apart from Tony believed in him? The fact that no one else really seemed to 'get it' yet made Tony ridiculously angry, and as a result, he'd had a plan brewing for the past few days, a plan that, like most of his ideas, had the potential to blow up in his face and ruin everything, but held enough promise of reward that he was going to fuck the risks and do it anyway. He hadn't told Loki of the plan yet, or even Thor, not because it didn't involve them, but because the less time either of them had to talk him out of it or make it see it for how ridiculous it really was, the better.

Catching sight of the clock on the opposite wall, Tony realised that if this plan was going to come to fruition, and come to fruition tonight, now was the time to get the ball rolling. Casting a glare over the Sonic Borer, Tony vowed to get the better of it the next day, and with a final squeeze of his still-throbbing burn, he strode from the workshop, calling to JARVIS as he made his way upstairs to find food and Thor ice. Lots of ice.

**XXXXX**

Thor was lying on the sofa in the living room fully engrossed in a showing of The Titanic, alternating chewing mouthfuls of popcorn (a recent, albeit messy discovery of his) and shouting out instructions at the characters. Tony still hadn't quite managed to convince him that people inside 'the magic box' couldn't hear anything he said, weren't real, and probably wouldn't have listened anyway. Shaking his head at just how _loud_ Thor's inside voice was, he made his way over the other sofa, hand wrapped in a freezing cold cloth, and prepared to activate Stage One of his Plan of Action. Clearing his throat to get Thor's attention, he instructed JARVIS to pause the movie, and had to stop himself laughing for about the hundredth time at Thor's standard overreaction to things seemingly obeying the power of Tony's voice alone.

''Hey, big guy. Enjoying the movie? It gets even sadder you know, just warning you. There's Kleenex over there, you might wanna grab some later''.

Thor returned his attempt at a greeting with a blank look and a furrowed brow. Tony realised they probably didn't have Kleenex on Asgard.

''Kleenex…tissues…look, never mind. Not important. I need to ask you a favour''.

At this, Thor sat up straighter, grinning.

''You have need of me, Son of Stark? I am to complete a job for you? A quest?''

His booming voice was full of gratitude and pride, and Tony was once again reminded just how _medieval_ Thor was compared to Loki. It was slightly ridiculous, and Tony was seized with a second of doubt about involving Thor in what was perhaps the most important stage of his plan. He hurried on, he was here now, and it was still a good idea. It had to work.

''Yeah, err…sort of. Listen, I want you to contact the others – Steve and 'Tasha and Clint and Bruce and Pepper, you can do that right? With the phone I gave you? – and I want you to tell them they have to get here immediately, that you suspect I've been compromised by your brother, that he's been acting strangely and you haven't seen me for hours and you think I might be in danger. And that you require back up. Like now. Tonight. All of them.''

Thor looked confused again, and Tony didn't miss the flash of pain that crossed his face when he'd mentioned Loki.

''Danger? At the hands of my brother? What is this, what has happened? What has Loki done? And…but… I have seen you!''

Taking a deep breath, Tony counted to five. If there was one plus point to be gained from having Thor around, it was that he was finally learning the true meaning of patience. Sort of.

''No, no, there's no danger. I'm fine. Loki's fine. He hasn't done anything, he's upstairs, I guess, avoiding you. But you have to make the others think he _has_ done something, you have to make them think there's a good enough reason for them to come and investigate. It's like…pretence, right? It's like acting. Like Titanic''.

He followed the realisation slowly dawn across the blonde gods face.

''You wish…you wish for me to lie, Stark? Lie to our friends? That is Loki's forte, not mine, nor is it honourable! Why do you wish this?''

Thor had moved from a look of confusion to one of great disproval, and Tony realised this wasn't going to be as easy as he thought. Damn Asgardians and their honour.

''Not _lie_, Thor. Not in a bad way anyway. Just…pretend. It's the only way they'll all come, and I have something important to talk to them about. I get the feeling Fury's banned them from contacting me, or something, and I can't exactly leave you guys here to go and find them myself. Besides, it's important for you that they come. For Loki too. You want to reconcile with him, right?''

That last line was Tony's trump card, and he prayed that it had worked. Thor still looked reluctant to commit the apparent atrocity that was a lie, but Tony could see he was now torn between wanting his brother back and wanting to maintain his apparent 'honour'. Loki won.

''Man of Iron, I do not know what this mischief is…but you say it will reunite me with Loki. If carrying out your wish is all I need to do to guarantee this, I will be glad to assist. I will summon the others. And your 'Pepper'. But, erm, my…phone… is it, I don't know…'' and he broke off, searching the air around him, patting at his torso and the sofa, as if expecting his phone to jump into his hand the same way Mjolnir did.

Tony grinned, and slapped Thor on the shoulder.

''Nice one, point break. Don't worry about the phone, JARVIS will talk you through it. It's in the hallway, on the table near the stairs, if I remember correctly…just go out there and ring them all, oh, and the most important thing – DON'T let SHEILD muscle in on this, tell them all NOT to alert security. I don't want any agents coming with them. JUST them. Understand? And Pepper. Tell them they MUST keep the info on lock down, or….or Loki might finish me off. Yeah, that'll do. They need to come quick, and they need to come ALONE.''

Thor nodded in agreement and with apparent understanding. Satisfied that he'd explained himself as well as he needed, Tony followed him out into the hallway, spying Thor's phone where he said it would be and handing it to him.

''JARVIS, help him out. I don't want him video-calling HQ or something and causing a full scale international hostage incident''.

Leaving Thor and his mobile in the capable hands of JARVIS, Tony started up the stairs, ready to deploy Stage Two. This one was probably going to be a lot trickier, but he needed practice. If everything went as he expected, he was going to find himself in a potentially _very_ sticky situation later; he needed his powers of persuasion to be gunning at full throttle. Just as well he was due a conversation with the acclaimed universal 'silvertongue'.

**XXXXXX**

Loki's desk was small and covered in books, books that he'd squirreled away from various corners of Tony's house whenever he'd been sure Thor was otherwise occupied and had proceeded to escape the confines of his room. There was a mishmash of cookery books, engineering manuals and stories about a very boring looking man in a suit called 'James Bond 007', and so far Loki didn't think much to any of them, but they were books all the same, and some of the technology ones were mildly interesting, even if they did mostly consist of concepts he'd learnt aeons ago. It intrigued him to study the mortals take on them, and more than once he'd let his mind wander into thinking just how powerful they could be if they pushed themselves more, if they let go of these ancient explanations and theories and understood things as he understood them. He'd been testing the water with Stark briefly over the last day or so, suggestion minute hints and tips whenever he saw the engineer wrestling with a problem, and come to the conclusion that the man was definitely more advanced than the majority of his race, and had potential – real potential for magic, if not the ability. He was just pondering why this interested him so, why he had such a preoccupation with Starks work, and with Stark himself, when the man in question knocked on Loki's door – at least, Loki assumed it was Stark, Thor wouldn't have dared be so brazen after their last 'incident'.

''Loki? Can I come in?''

_Yep, Stark._Loki rose out of his chair and crossed the short distance to the door, turning the handle to unlock it. Tony pushed the door open and Loki stood back to let him enter, brows knitted in curiosity – even after their 'truce' or 'bonding session' two days before, neither had actively sought out the other for company yet. Tony crossed over the floor and hovered at the base of Loki's bed; nodding, the god indicated that he should sit, and made his way back over to his chair.

''To what do I owe this unexpected visit, Stark?''

Loki noticed Tony looked slightly uncomfortable, although restless and…was that excitement he detected?

''Tony, please, I thought we'd got rid of this Stark nonsense – Thor is bad enough with Son of Stark.'' Tony shuddered, and Loki understood, being referred to by the name of your father had to hurt when you spent your whole life avoiding any paternal connections. It wasn't as if Tony strode around calling him 'Laufeyson' or 'Odinson', both of which grated uncomfortably. Slightly embarrassed and with an apologetic gesture, Loki readdressed his host.

''Tony. What is it that you want?''

''I've got a, err…proposition for you. Something I need to run by you. Inform you of. Kind of like, a, um, warning.''

Loki noticed how quickly Tony had gone from 'proposition' to 'inform' to 'warn'. Narrowing his eyes, all his old walls and barriers were put on high alert. Tony seemed to notice the change in his demeanour, for he hurried on, clearly wanting to avoid any hostility.

''No no, it's not anything bad, you're not in any danger, nothing's wrong. It's fine. It's just… we can't go on forever like this, holed up here, with only each other for company. I don't know what the hell's up with the other guys, but I'm betting Fury's got them all on some sort of SHEILD arrest. And I'm sick of it. If you want to recover, if you want to be forgiven and all that, it has to be by _everyone_. It has to come from all of us. And they all _do_ accept this, I know they do – you heard what they said in the meeting – but the fact is they're being kept away from you, and thus you aren't getting your full chance. So I've….arranged a way for them all to be here. Together. Tonight. And I want you to come down and see them and Iwanttomakethisagroupthing.''

Tony rushed out his last sentence, apparently worried that it was going to act as some sort of grenade and completely obliterate any understanding that he and Loki had come to. Loki felt his heart rate increase as Tony had spoken, the familiar feeling of dread and panic and losing control threatening to overwhelm him, but he saw, even through this, that Tony was talking sense. It didn't mean he wasn't still terrified.

''A group thing? What if they don't want it to be a group thing…you can't force them to accept me, I'll never be like them…I'm not an Avenger and I'm not in your superhero family…they won't, I can't, I don't' - ''

Loki was letting his anxiety run away with him, he stopped and took a deep breath, there was no way he was _afraid_ of the Avengers, surely? _But they were afraid of him, _he reminded himself._ And that's just as bad. That's worse._ He hated anything that reminded him of being different, outcast, a monster.

''Loki. It doesn't matter. I'm not asking you to be an Avenger – you really think Fury would sanction that? You're out of you're mind again.''

Tony's easy grin was reassuring, calming, Loki forced himself to pay attention and not freak out. Tony continued.

''All I want is for them to see you like I do. See that you're not a threat anymore. I want them to not have to avoid me because they've been ordered to avoid you. I'm not asking for happy families, just a sense of normality. You want normality, right?''

Loki hesitated, before nodding.

''Right. And seen as you don't really have one of your own, you're going to have to put up with my version. Which involves friends, alcohol, food and…not much else really. Various combinations of those variables. Except work. And you've already been introduced to that part.''

Slowly, the sense of panic and urge to run was leaving. Loki could see that Stark – _Tony _– was doing this for him, as much as he was for himself. This wasn't a trick, he wasn't going to be arrested or punished or taken away anywhere. Out of his comfort zone didn't count.

''One more thing….''

He snapped his attention back to Tony, waiting with bated breath.

''…Thor's one of the Avengers now. You have to reconcile with him. If not for his sake or your sake, for mine. And the rest of the team. There's no point getting everyone together on an even footing if the pair of you still refuse to even be in the same room. It'll be like putting a band-aid on when the wound's still flowing. And I'm not good with the sight of blood. So, you're going to patch things up''.

Loki made as though to protest, but Tony's voice was so authoritive and so definite that all his arguments died on his tongue. Stark wouldn't let him argue, he wouldn't see why Loki _couldn't_ be friends with Thor. Loki wasn't being difficult on purpose. Tony wouldn't see that Loki _wanted_ to hate Thor, but he couldn't, and that just made him hate himself, and then Thor thought that Loki hating himself was his fault, and Loki knew this, which then just made Loki even more guilty and even more messed up and even more conflicted. Tony wouldn't see it because Loki couldn't ever explain it, and thus there was no point bringing it up. He'd let Tony think he agreed, and when the time came when he had to face Thor…well, they'd all see then. And if they didn't, at least they'd see it wasn't as easy as Tony was professing. Whatever 'it' was. It was all well and good trying to build bridges with the others…if Tony thought it was possible, he'd dare to harbour a hope…but Thor was too far away, too large, too big of an issue to reach that easily. Looking up, Loki carefully tried to remove all traces of thoughts about his brother from his face, and did an excellent job at sounding contrite.

''OK. I will meet with them…if I must. I will take your lead. I understand your reasoning and I respect your efforts. Now, if you'd excuse me, I think I should sleep, I get the feeling tonight will be exhausting. Notify…notify me when they arrive''.

Loki made to stand up, and Tony took his cue. Shocked at how easily Loki had accepted his terms, he had one last thing to warn the god of before he left him to prepare for the evening.

''Sure. One thing before I go…I kind of had to pretend that I was in danger, to get them to come at all. So don't be alarmed if they turn up in like, suits and stuff. But don't worry, I'll take to them all first and explain the ruse before I call for you. Honest, it'll be fine. And I'll make them leave the weapons at the door''.

Loki felt his alarm rising again, but he'd already agreed, and strangely, he felt reassured by Stark. He believed him, felt safe with him. Tony wouldn't have arranged this if he thought doing so would have brought any real danger to Loki. And besides, Thor, _the idiot_, he wouldn't let anyone harm him, even if Loki didn't want or need his protection. He nodded again, resigning himself to his fate, and crossed over to the bed, motioning that he really did need sleep now. Tony smiled, an oddly friendly smile, a proper smile, before turning and walking towards the corridor, closing the door softly on his way out.

Loki pulled the sheets over his fully clothed body and sank his head down onto the pillow, mind full with conflicting thoughts and emotions. The one that nagged him most of all was conspicuous in its unfamiliarity, he'd felt it a couple of times over the last week, more so during the last two days, and especially strongly during the conversation he'd just had. Mentally exhausted, he mulled it over as he made himself comfy, realising right before he succumbed to his nap what it was.

Contentment.

For the first time since he could remember, he felt content. Safe. Secure. He could be himself, at last. And no one was threatening him, or mocking him, or running away from him. Stark was even pulling people _towards_ him. He drifted off, and also for the first time since he could remember, he was not plagued by horrors or bad visions or restless limbs. For the first time, his dream, however brief, wasn't a nightmare. For the first time, Loki rested.


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N: HERE ARE A LOT OF WORDS! So, this is the Big Explanation of Tony's crazy fabulous idea...and it is Big. Hopefully it'll make up for my delay in posting, right? For which I have an excellent excuse...it's my last week in my house-share with my group of best friends (I'm moving back in with my parents next Saturday because our contract expires and we are all insanely in debt...student life ahhh) and so we've been doing lots of fun emotional drunk things as well as packing and cleaning like crazy, leaving me with not many hours to write/edit...forgive me?_

_Also, I received the results of my degree yesterday, (I GOT A 2:1 IN CLASSICAL LITERATURE, HELLS YES) so finally finishing this chapter was sort of like part of my reward to myself! And all you lovely people for continuing to be lovely! Seriously, you make my days. Hope this satisfies you all...it has lots of feels and dialogue and THOR AND LOKI STUBBORNESS. Yum. Working on Chp 17 at the mo, it may be after the weekend by the time I get to update though, this house is going to take a LOT of work before we can hand it back to our landlord!_

_Disclaimer: Nothing mine. Title from song of same name by God Is An Astronaut. Fabulous background tune to writing/reading/tidying/life._

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**Chapter 16. Worlds In Collision.**

By 7.30pm, Tony had paced around the kitchen approximately 23 times and drunk 4 espressos. He had tried to occupy himself in his workshop, but he just kept breaking things and burning himself and swearing and he couldn't concentrate. He thought briefly about making some food, before a series of faint spasms somewhere in his stomach region told him this probably wouldn't be the best idea. He was grateful to his head for telling him the same when he found himself looking longingly at the replenished bottle of Scotch in the nearby cupboard.

If he were an observer, and this was anyone else, Tony would have called nerves, but that was ridiculous – he was Tony fucking Stark, he didn't get _nervous_. Especially not around people who were supposedly his _friends_. No, he was just…excited, that's all. Excited to see them and hit them up with his plan. Because the plan hadn't just been to get them all to his house, that was just the beginning. Tony had something much bigger and crazier and more risky in mind for the Avengers. He only hoped they'd come armed with rationality and an open mind, and not just a shed load of arrows and anger and other assassin-y type attitudes. He figured if he could get Steve and Bruce on board, he'd be home and dry; and he was confident they wouldn't let him down.

Kind of confident.

He thought.

He hoped.

The message back from Thor just over 3 hours ago had been that the team had initially reacted with panic, then worry, and finally suspicion, before agreeing to make their way out to Malibu at the fastest possible opportunity. Apparently they'd all been at HQ in New York (surprise surprise, Fury _was_ holing them all up together) and they'd promised to leave as fast as making a half decent excuse of escape allowed them to. He'd been perhaps a little too reliant on Thor's improvisation abilities, and as a result didn't really blame them for being suspicious – he doubted Thor would have sounded that convincing about any imperative danger when faced with Natasha's bullet fast interrogation techniques. Kudos to them though, they couldn't ignore a potential threat, however doubtful they were of it's truth, especially coming from the mouth of one of their own. Tony was ready to bet that Tasha and Bruce had seen his fingerprints all over Thor's phone call, but Steve, bless him, would not have taken any threats to Tony's life lightly, and would most likely be coming all guns (well, shield) blazing until he finally cottoned on that the situation was just a ruse.

Given the time now, the speed of SHIELD's Quinjets (although how they'd managed to get one of those out of base without Fury or any other agents noticing was beyond him, he really ought to give them his congratulations on that) and the approximate distance between them, the team should be arriving just before 8. He'd briefly filled Thor in on the planned order of action, and begged him not to overreact or go all overbearing and crazy when Loki joined them. To stop the god from getting too overexcited and loud about the whole situation, Tony had persuaded him to wait in the living room and finish watching Titanic; if that didn't get Thor in a sombre enough mood for the upcoming meeting, nothing would. Thor was very easily moved, and Tony didn't feel in the least bit bad about using the television as some kind of standby babysitter. He hadn't bothered to wake Loki yet, or even check if Loki was awake, he figured the amount of noise and stress that was soon to be filling his house would probably do that job for him.

As he paced around for the 36th time, he heard the familiar faint monotonous drone of an engine somewhere in the distance, and his throat squeezed. This was it. That was them. Hating how dry his mouth suddenly became, he got the feeling he was teetering on some of precipice that he hadn't even realised he was climbing up to. Giving himself a shake and downing a fifth espresso, he strode through into the hallway, ready to greet his friends.

Crunch time.

* * *

JARVIS had been instructed to remove all security alarms and alerts around the perimeter of the house, something else which was likely to rouse suspicion among the Avengers, if they didn't already doubt the danger in which Tony was apparently in. He could see the jet land some way off in a field adjacent to the beach, and watched as Steve, Natasha and Clint hurried across the grass towards him, decked out in full suits (as he'd expected), Clint's bow up and ready and trained straight on Tony's front door. Bruce followed a little behind, with Pepper – clearly she had been at Stark Industries and hitched a lift. Tony felt a little pang of hurt that she hadn't told him she'd left Malibu; then again, if his theory was correct, she'd probably been ordered away – and after all, she was Stark Industries CEO, she did technically have to be at the office. Seeing them pause at having the gate open automatically for them, he moved from the window to the door, wary of making any sudden movement in case Clint got too arrow-happy. Swinging open the door and stepping out onto the porch, he held his hands above his head, just in case Clint or any of them _did_ fall prey to their super fast reaction times.

''Tony - ! What – Thor said – what's going on – where's Loki – are you OK - ?''

Steve had come to an abrupt halt halfway up Tony's path, the others gathering behind him, Clint lowering his bow by only the tiniest fraction.

''Guys, hey. Welcome to Malibu! I'm fine Steve, really. I got Thor to make that up, I needed to get you out here without risking contact myself, Fury's got me under some kind of surveillance, right? I missed you!'' Tony grinned easily, making a show of looking as natural and as relaxed as possible.

At his words, Natasha narrowed her eyes in a 'knew it' kind of way, Bruce smiled as though he had also known it all along, and Clint simply looked resigned and almost disappointed. Steve stood there, brow knitted, clearly wanting to make sure Tony really was OK and Loki really hadn't gone apeshit and flattened him or the house before he leapt forward with any greetings. Pepper was hovering at the edge of the group, remnants of tears in her eyes, and Tony felt bad for having told the lie to her, he knew she'd have been feeling worried and guilty all the way over here, despite what Natasha and Bruce had inevitably told her.

''What? You're OK? Really? But what…why…why did you need us to come out, then?''

Steve sounded as if he didn't really believe Tony yet, but before Tony could answer, he felt a shape moving in the hall behind before barrelling past him – Thor was now stepping off the porch, arms open, beaming grin on his face.

''Friends!'' He boomed, not seeming to care that he'd only spent about 3 days in the company of the Avengers, and didn't really get on with anyone for the first day anyway. It didn't seem to matter that no one returned his warmth with any noticeable gusto; Thor clearly had the part of 'welcoming host' ingrained into him, no matter that he was technically a guest here as much as the others were.

'Thor, Tony, what's going on?''

This time it was Pepper who spoke, clearly confused and almost succeeding but not quite in hiding a slight wobble to her voice.

''Look, why don't you all come inside and I'll explain then?'' Tony moved back to allow everyone space to enter the house; remembering his promise to Loki he held an hand out at the last minute, indicating the area next to the hall table.

''Weapons at the door please, and shoes. Cleaners orders!''

Shuffling around and somewhat reluctantly depositing his bow and arrows, Clint continued to glance suspiciously around the hallway, as if expecting Loki to suddenly jump out from behind a door and catch them all in a net. Steve balanced his shield next to Clint's bow, and Natasha very grudgingly unclipped her belt and set it down with the others. Tony stared at her, smirking – if she thought he believed that was all her weapons, she severely underestimated him. Catching his glance, she pursed her lips, raising her eyebrows in a challenge. Tony let it go, for this time – he trusted her enough to know she wouldn't pull a gun on him or Loki for no reason; besides, it was probably safer to let her keep them wherever she had them hidden than force her to part with them. It would be safer (and easier) trying to get a mother to part with her firstborn. Leading them all into the living room, Tony waited before they had all perched haphazardly and still a little hesitantly on the sofas and chairs before he spoke.

''Guys, firstly, I'm sorry I had to lie, well, get Thor to lie. It wasn't my best plan, but then again I didn't exactly have a plan as such – I just needed you all here, because I've got something important to say and something I need, well, want you all to do. I figured the deafening silence on your end this past week was SHIELD's doing – either I'm some kind of experiment that no one's allowed to tamper with, or you've all been led to believe I'm consorting with the enemy now and not to be trusted or something.''

A quick glance around the room confirmed his theory had been correct. Ignoring the frustration rising up, he carried on, his annoyance and the reasons behind it would be dealt with in a short while.

''So yeah, I had to get round that, and hopefully Fury. He doesn't know you're here, right?'' Tony had re-programmed the video feed going from his house to Fury's office to conveniently suffer visual and audio programmes until midnight tonight, when hopefully everything would be explained and he'd got some news to share with the Director personally. News Tony knew he wouldn't like, but he'd never been good at doing what he was told and being someone's pet.

''He won't stay ignorant for long''. Bruce's voice was calm and aimed at merely informing Tony, not threatening him.

''No problem. I'm going to hit up the guy myself later, just as soon as I've said my bit here. Frankly, it's pissed me off that he's cut me off, when we agreed that I'd babysit Loki we did not agree that myself, him and Thor would be under some kind of house arrest – the whole point of that plan was to not imprison Loki, right? And to be honest, what with turning my house into a fucking series of Big Brother and banning contact with the outside world, I don't see that SHIELD are keeping up with their side of the bargain. What's the point of me helping Loki if he isn't allowed any contact with anyone else? What's the point me helping him if he never gets to talk to anyone who isn't me or his brother, if everyone else still treats him like shit, if the whole world still looks on him with suspicion? What's the point in making him sorry if the whole world doesn't even get to see or hear from him? No fucking point at all. Do you see what I'm saying?''

Tony had got worked up despite his earlier intentions to keep calm, and he could hear his breathing raise up a few notches, coming thick and fast after his statement. The team were all looking rather shell-shocked, whatever they'd expected, it clearly hadn't been some kind of presentation on Loki's reformed character.

Bruce, again, was the first to speak. ''We haven't abandoned you, or Loki. We've been watching you. And him. We've seen everything''.

''You've been – what?'' Tony was thrown off track.

''Yeah. You think we've been having a sleepover back at HQ? Ignoring you for the fun of it? Tony, we've been monitoring all the feeds. Every day. We've been briefed on Fury's conversations with you. We've been tracking both of you. We've seen him, and we've heard him. We only haven't contacted you, because…well, Fury thought this whole thing would work better if it was just you at first, you know? Getting Loki used to normal interaction again. Rather than having all 4 of us butting in and making things complicated. See?''

Once Tony had got over the shock of Bruce saying something longer than 5 words, and then the shock of what Bruce had actually _said,_ his mind started going into overdrive. So the team had been watching him? He wasn't sure how he felt about that…all those things he and Loki had spoken about…Loki breaking down…Tony being _friendly_ with him…had they all seen that? Not that there was anything there that technically they _shouldn't_ have seen, but still. Tony still felt uncomfortable, and the strangest thing was, he felt more embarrassed for Loki than himself. He felt oddly…_protective_ of Loki, and he didn't like to think of them all sat there, gawping at him at his lowest.

''Tony, we wanted to contact you. Honestly, we did. Pepper especially.'' This time it was Steve who spoke, gesturing at Pepper curled up against the arm of the sofa across from him. ''It's been hard for us, for her. We want to help, even if…even if we still don't really know what's going to happen, with Loki. We're your friends, you didn't honestly think we'd abandoned you?''

Tony stared at Steve, the guy had such a sorrowful manner, Tony could tell the Captain was genuinely cut up about not having being able to keep Tony in the loop. His mind was buzzing, did this mean…did this mean they all _did_ fully support him then? That they'd all _wanted_ to come and help? If this were the case, his plan had suddenly got a whole lot easier.

''Mate, it's true. Much as I'm still not keen on the little shit - '' Thor growled – ''you gotta admit, he hasn't killed you yet. You must be doing an alright job.'' Heavy praise from Clint, if slightly misguided in front of Thor.

''Ok, so, what…you're all on board with this? Really?'' Tony had to make sure, before he skipped all his planned grovelling and imploring (and actually, thank fuck for that, he _really_ wasn't the begging type).

''Sure'' said Bruce, whilst Natasha and Clint both gave a brief nod, and Pepper made an odd noise that was somewhere between disproval and agreement. Steve, however, had one final question. He knew Tony best, apart from Pepper, and he could sense that Tony was about to drop a bombshell, size as yet undetermined.

'' '_this_' being you helping Loki? Or something…something more?''

Steve had a way of staring at Tony that was just loaded with expectation, as much as he tried, Tony could never get anything past Steve, the Captain saw straight through him. Whether he pulled Tony up on what he saw was dependant on the situation at hand, but Tony knew that he'd never be able to totally hide from Steve's judgement. On anything.

''I want Loki to be a part of this, not just a subject. I want him to be…one of us.''

Tony hadn't really planned how he was going to say that line, he'd kind of thought he'd just wing it when the time came, and as the time had apparently come, he'd opened his mouth and _wait what had he meant that?_ Is that what he'd wanted to say? Seeing Steve's eyes widen in surprise and hearing Clint's snort of disbelief convinced him that actually, yes. It was. _How about that_.

Before he had time to ponder how the rest of the team would interpret it, he was pulled into a massive bear hug by Thor, who had crossed the room and was clapping Tony on the back, practically swallowing the smaller man in his arms. From around Thor's bicep he could just about see Natasha, looking impassive as always, and Bruce just sitting there, still calm, seemingly unsurprised by Tony's declaration. When Thor at last broke away, he glanced around the room again, wondering whether to say anything else or whether someone else would fill the silence. No one did, so he plunged on.

''I want him to be able to feel comfortable in front of us, I want him to be able to let his guard down with people. He's never going to mend if he never sees anyone. I want him to build bridges, with Thor and all of you…and himself. And I think he can do it. He's angry and volatile and messed up still, yes, but a bit of that is just down to his personality. The main thing is, he's not dangerous, not in a murdery way, anymore, and the longer we treat him as a threat the longer he'll believe he is one and behave like he is one. So…'' Tony took a deep breath. ''I want you all to stay here. With him. With us. At least for a bit, like a holiday or something – or a long weekend, or whatever. I want him to get used to being around people, and have them treat him like he's an equal, not worthless or a scrap of dirt. What do you say? For me?''

Steve's eyes had gone even wider, and Clint's were quickly following suit. Pepper had made to stand up out of her chair, and Bruce continued just to stare at Tony, blinking slowly. Natasha was the first to recover.

''You want us all to move in with you? Now? Fury would never allow it.''.

Ah, the flaw in the plan. Tony had hoped that with all their agreements, he could confront Fury later and tell him of their new developments. Collectively. Teamwork. He didn't have a problem disobeying orders, but he liked to know he had his back covered when he needed it.

''Ignore Fury. For now. Just go with it. See what happens, fuck, just try things out, yeah? Give it a chance. Give Loki a chance. I've spent the last 2 days convincing him he deserves one.''

Tony appreciated that what he was asking was weird, unexpected, probably not all that appealing – but he no longer cared that he was practically pleading with them to get on with Loki, or that they might find that odd. He didn't care if they thought he was crazy for being bothered about Loki. Suddenly, somehow, over the last couple of days, he found the thing he _did_ care about was _in fact_ Loki, and he could forgive the others for being wary; it had scared him too. It still did. Another reason why he wanted them all around him was so he'd have a few distractions, so he wouldn't feel so intense all the time. Or at least he thought that's what he wanted. Regardless, he knew that in the end, it was probably what _Loki _wanted, or at least what Loki needed, whether or not the god ever admitted it, now or in time to come.

Thor broke in.

''I assure you all that my brother will appreciate your efforts and your company, even if he has difficulty showing it. I remain hopeful that everyone can overcome their problems in time, and Tony has assured me that having you all around will help Loki, er, break his sand, I think the saying is.''

Tony could see looks of confusion flit across everyone's faces.

''He means come out of his shell. Loki's shell. Seriously, you know, I mean it. There's enough rooms here. I had JARVIS make them up…stay tonight, at least? Loki's going to…Loki's going to come down, soon, here, and we're all going to eat together and no one's going to threaten anyone and no one - '' he aimed his glance specifically at Thor '' – is going to blow anything up or shout or scream or get injured. OK? If you can't forgive him, just…just sit there. Just act like you don't hate him. Yeah?''

He directed most of his speech at Steve and Pepper, if he could get them to agree, the others would, all he was asking was that they be in the same room as Loki for one evening, that wasn't beyond them was it? And if they had seen the footage and whatnot from the past week, they'd know what the situation was. They'd know how Loki felt, how Tony felt. They'd have seen that Loki was no longer a threat or worthy of such hostility. They'd have heard all about the Chitauri and Loki's trauma. They had to see what Tony did, didn't they? At least if not to the same extent, they had to admit that Loki wasn't some kind of devil incarnate. He was just… Loki, a slightly messed up guy who made some bad decisions and fucked up a bit. OK, a lot. He wasn't perfect, but neither was Tony, and maybe that's why he felt so strongly that the team should accept Loki – they'd accepted _him_, hadn't they? They put up with his snarkyness and ego and narcissism and general assholery, and that was all Loki was, really, when you took away the evil world domination thing. Which Bruce, (well, the Hulk, though inadvertently) had.

''Tony, I'm not exactly happy about this, but…the bottom line is, I trust you. And I'm willing to put my hand up and give it a go. For tonight. And if no one gets hurt and nothing gets damaged…I'd be willing to stay longer. The weekend maybe. I'm in.''

Steve always was solemn when directing speeches of this nature, and right then Tony could have kissed him. He knew the Captain would be behind him, he always was. He knew he could count on his friends. They were a great bunch. They were _exactly_ what Loki needed. Nodding his gratitude at Steve, they both turned to glance round at everyone else. Bruce held his hand up straight away, silently acquiescing to Tony's suggestion. Natasha was slightly tight lipped and had fixed Tony with a look that let him know that if he gave her any reason to regret this, he would regret his whole entire life, but she also nodded. Clint, seeing this, sighed and muttered something under his breath that sounded very much like '_fuckers need all their fucking brains examined_' before making some kind of grunted agreement. Tony continued to stare at Pepper, who still hadn't said anything. Noticing she was the focus of attention, she sat up a little straighter, a tired and weary look on her face.

''Tony, I've known you for so long…I've known you make really bad decisions, really stupid ones. But I've also known things work out for you that wouldn't have had a chance in hell with anyone else. I'd love to be able to tell you to deal with your own problems and stop dragging me into your messes. But hey..'' she paused, with a wry smile, ''…your problems seem to somehow make themselves into my problems. And…and I've missed you. A lot. So OK, I'll stay. But just for a few days, your company won't run itself…''

This time, Tony did cross the room and kiss his friend.

''Seriously? You'll stay? Here?''

''Well, no. Not here as in, this house. I'll stay at the apartment, right? It's basically mine and already has my things there. And things are looking a little crowded here anyway.'' Pepper looked round the room, making a brave attempt to smile at everyone. ''Don't worry though, I'll come round for all the fun.''

Tony couldn't believe how well she was taking this, she sounded relaxed, and even upbeat. Knowing her as well as he did, he knew she would be tearing up inside, worrying for him, worrying for his sanity, worrying at the logistical nightmare that having all the Avengers and two Asgardian gods under his roof would entail. But Pepper, sweet, brilliant, wonderful Pepper, was dealing with it all for his sake. This reassured him more than anything else, and he knew he'd made the right call.

''A celebration!'' Thor boomed into the silence, breaking up Tony and Peppers hug. ''Man of Iron, do you possess any ale?''

''Err, I have whiskey, wine, gin, vodka, brandy, beer…but hang on a second. Before we start celebrating, let's get introductions out the way first, yeah? You guys all stay here, I'll…I'll go and get Loki.''

Thor fell silent, looking at Tony with a mix of excitement and anguish. ''My brother, of course…do you think…would it be better for me to greet him individually, alone?'' Thor sounded worried, obviously he was remembering the last 'conversation' he'd had with Loki as well as Tony was.

''No, Thor, it's fine. Stay right there. I spoke to him, I told him you needed – he needed – you _both_ needed to patch things up. He's willing to try, I think. Just let him start, let him come to you. Don't, like…jump on him as soon as he comes in the room.''

Thors face split in half with a massive grin, and he practically bounced on the balls of his feet. Swallowing awkwardly and moving back across the room to the door, Tony paused, indicating the ceiling.

''I'll just, er, go get him then. Wait here. And Natasha, no shooting!''

* * *

Regardless of all the battles, scrapes, bizarre situations and outlandish places they had each found themselves in over the course of their lives, each of the team shared the same, silent thought – this was _definitely_ the weirdest. Bruce, Clint and Natasha were sharing the large L shaped sofa, Pepper was curled up in the armchair, Tony and Loki had ended up on the smaller two seater sofa and Thor was perched on the floor at Bruce's feet, seemingly too large to squish onto any of the limited amount of cushion left available. The television was on, but no one was really watching it. The leftover remnants of take out pizza were strewn across the coffee table, although no one had really felt all that hungry, and basically just ate to give themselves something to do with their mouths that wasn't talking. Because the talking was strange, stilted, and on the wrong side of ever so slightly uncomfortable. Tony had returned down the stairs with Loki a couple of hours ago, and no one had really known where to look or what to say. Loki hadn't said a lot either. Tony made up for everyone's hesitance and talked too much, although that wasn't a surprise. However, it was hard even for him to have a conversation in which he only received one word back for every 10 he spoke, and in the end he'd suggested the TV to drown out the ever increasing awkward silences.

The fact wasn't that nobody wanted to talk, it was that they simply had no idea what to say – everything felt fake and wrong; and as Loki was vulnerable at best, volatile at worst, having a regular chat with him just wasn't an option, at least not yet. Not so soon. Tony knew it'd take a while for this whole thing to feel anywhere near normal, it had taken _him_ almost a week to have a proper conversation with Loki, and so for now he just took it as a positive sign that they were even all in the same room, doing something vaguely domestic and 'friendly'; it was an even bigger plus that Loki was still there too. The god had been as good as his word and greeted everyone by name, except of course Thor who he'd resolutely ignored. Tony had noticed Thor's crestfallen face and could see the big guy was hurting, but true to _his_ word, he'd left Loki alone. Apart from the 20 glances a minute he'd made in his brothers direction, which Tony was sure Loki had to have noticed, but if he had, he hadn't acknowledged them or even let it show that he was aware Thor was in the same room. This was a whole huge percent of the reason why the atmosphere could be cut with a knife, probably literally if Natasha had anything to do with it.

Just as whatever the hell programme that was on went off for an advert break and Tony was about to suggest a round of drinks (_it wasn't exactly as if things could get more awkward, was it_), Thor apparently decided he'd had enough of Loki's silence and turned to address his brother with a set, determined face.

''Loki. This is madness. Will you not look at me, or talk to me? Tony Stark is doing you a favour, brother, and it is for a reason. We all need to set our differences aside and that includes you and me. Will you let go of your poisonous thoughts? Brother, look at me!''

Loki had continued to stare straight ahead at the TV during Thors impassioned plea, although Tony noticed a muscle at his jaw working and his hands grip onto the cushion with renewed strength. The sharp intakes of breath from everyone else had been almost deafening in the charged silence that met Thors words, and Tony set himself on high alert, ready to begin damage control if it looked like things were going to get 'out of hand' again.

''Er, Thor, mate, look, this really might not be the best time, you don't have to do this now, why don't you try and have a chat with Loki tomorrow, just you guys yeah, you don't want an audience surely…Thor?''

Thor completely disregarded Tony's attempts to pacify him, and instead stood up from his crouched position on the floor, making a movement as if to get closer to Loki. Tony could feel Loki physically pull away next to him, and he rose to his feet too, acting like some sort of human barrier between the gods. He wasn't sure where Thor was going with this, but he was pretty damn sure Loki didn't feel like accompanying him.

''Tony Stark, I appreciate your concern, but this has gone on long enough. My brother will not ignore me any longer, not when he has my apologies, my support, my love – I am truly sorry for whatever I have done that has wronged him, I am truly sorry for any pain I have put him through that caused him to end up here – but it is no use being sorry if he will not partake in forgiveness, both in accepting mine and offering his own plea! Loki! Are you hearing what I am saying, brother? This _must end_!''

Thors voice was rough and desperate; reaching out to Loki, begging his brother to stop trying to turn himself into a stranger. Loki's jaw was working quickly and more furiously now, Tony could see his eyes darken and his lips purse. His hands seemed to be trembling. _Uh oh_.

''Thor – '' But Tony was cut off from whatever meditative advice he was going to offer by a choked snarl that came from the sofa beside him; it seemed Loki had cracked.

''You still deign to call me brother? How many times, Thor, I am not your brother and I never was! _That_ is what's ended, and a long time ago! Your feelings do not concern me, no longer am I required to treat you as kin, and nor you me! No longer can you hurt me, you are nothing to me! Why can't you just _leave me alone_ Thor!''

Loki's voice was high pitched, desperate to match Thors, angry and painful to listen to. Pepper had frozen on her chair, Bruce and Steve were looking worried, and Clint and Natasha were poised as though ready to attack. With what, Tony didn't know, or care. The evening wasn't meant to be going this way, this wasn't meant to happen, this was meant to be a chance for Loki to integrate himself, not be pushed further away or push himself further away.

''Hold on – whoa – Loki, Thor – '' But once again Tony was cut of by the older Asgardians booming voice.

''Have you forgotten everything, Loki? Our childhood, our family? I am your brother, I always have been and I always will be! Have you forgotten the times we played, worked, fought, drank alongside each other? Have you forgotten mother? Our friends? Have you really forgotten all the people who truly care for you?''

''There are none.'' Loki's reply was bitter, quiet.

''Loki, even for you that is an atrocious lie, and you know it! You cannot have forgotten it, us, I refuse to believe that you no longer care or think we care. We do care Loki, I care. I want you to come home. Have you forgotten what _home_ is Loki?''

If Loki's eyes had darkened before, they were positively black now, pools of deep and almost unmanageable emotion. This time he faced Thor full on, and his voice had become a low hiss.

''You fool, Thor, to hold on to such memories, such sentiments. You think I can just go home? You think I have a home? Of course I have not forgotten it…it is _it _that has forgotten _me._ And it is because of that I can never go back. Not because I've forgotten, but because I remember too well. I remember the _lies_.''

''There were no lies Loki! If you saw such things, if it seemed that I was lying, then again, I am truly sorry and I beg your forgiveness. But you were wrong. You were wrong to feel slighted or forgotten! Why did you not explain to me, why did you not tell me? You assumed we would understand you, and you punished us when we did not, and now you've punished innocent people here on Midgard. And yourself. Loki, you have to stop, stop _now_, this is all just a huge mistake, allow it to be over!''

Tony had never seen Thor cry before, would never have imagined Thor crying. But he was, now, stood in the middle of Tony's living room, face red and tears running down his cheeks as he tried to reach out to Loki.

_It's so strange_, Tony thought, _how someone could get so, so far away before anyone realised they'd fallen_. Thor might not have realised how Loki felt, but Loki had wanted him to realise, needed him to, and when Thor let him down again and again, _that's_ when he had given up. Tony didn't care that it was probably a really, really bad idea to interrupt just now, because he was going to. He hadn't planned this whole thing for nothing, he wasn't letting the evening go down this road. Not if he could help it. And again, if anyone knew the proper definition of 'help' where Loki was concerned, it was probably him.

''The tragedy of life is what dies inside a man while he lives.'' Tony's interjection was meant with a confused stare from Thor, an appalled glance from Loki and a few nervous looks from the rest of his team. This was his definition of winging it, and he didn't do things by halves. ''Come on, that's Einstein. He's a great dude, you'd have loved him on Asgard. Seriously, though…Loki. This isn't the end, remember?''

Loki was now staring at Tony, probably wondering what the hell the engineer was on about and probably wanting to kill him for sounding so blasé after Thor had just ripped his massive 'adoption wound' open again. Tony forced himself to sound more sincere, it really mattered that Loki payed attention to this.

''I understand, Loki, you know I do. Probably more than Thor. But that doesn't mean you should ignore him, or fight him forever. If I've learnt anything, personally, it's that the only thing that matters is the here and now. If you let what's happened in the past drag you down, you'll never get up out of that hole. Never. Don't let the trap swallow you, no matter what lies and excuses it offers up. Bite the bullet and climb out, forget what's happened.. Before it's too late. Think about _now_, Loki. Because this is about the best chance you're ever going get to start again.''

Loki's eyes were searching Tony's face all the while he spoke; and as he finished he detected the smallest hint of a smirk flitter across Loki's lips.

''It is hard to wipe away a lifetime of pain, Tony. You also understand that, don't you? You want too much. All of you. I can't give you what you want.''

'Then don't. Give us what _you_ want.'' Tony answered simply, daring once again to challenge Loki. Perhaps because Loki had called him Tony, and not Stark. That was new. ''We're all here for the long haul, buddy. Humans, we're resilient. We'll muddle through. And you're one of us now, except a bit more…special. Obviously.''

He didn't know if that was step too far, calling Loki special. For a moment he was convinced he'd blown it, blown everything, that Loki himself was going to blow up – but then he noticed the god's mouth was twitching, and most of the pain and the anger had left his eyes. He realised it was probably the first time Loki had explicitly being told he was part of a group, that he had people looking out for him. And Tony suddenly got the weirdest half desire to hug Loki, but then he remembered it was _Loki_, and that he wasn't Thor, and then Loki seemed to remember he was Loki, and his expression vanished, and he looked blank again, blank and resigned and exhausted.

But the Loki looked at Thor and he didn't flinch and there wasn't any malice in his eyes any more. And Thor seemed to understand, he gave Loki a hesitant smile and somehow restrained himself from saying anything at all, because he could tell Loki didn't want or need him to. And both Thor and Tony knew this was Loki's way of answering them; he wasn't promising to try and to be friends with his brother, he wasn't saying sorry, he wasn't offering anything, as such. But he was giving all he could, at that moment, and if that was silence in the place of arguing, assent in the place of hatred, resignation in the place of bitterness, then that was OK, and that was enough. For now.

And then they all seemed to remember that everyone else was still there, watching, listening, intrigued. An unspoken acknowledgement seemed to have fanned around the room during the last five minutes, and the atmosphere had lightened just enough to be noticeable. Tony didn't know whether it was him sticking up for Loki, him calling Loki 'special', seeing Loki have a conversation with Thor without attacking him, or seeing Thor profess his love for his brother, unconditionally and without hesitation, but suddenly it wasn't as awkward any more and Loki didn't stick out so much as 'the outsider'. The three of them slowly sat back down, but this time they seemed more relaxed, Loki wasn't tensely clutching his seat and Thor wasn't crouched as tightly and Tony didn't feel the need to blabber on about absolutely nothing.

In fact, none of them felt the need to say anything, and everyone seemed content to sit in silence, and Loki allowed himself to settle into his seat, surprisingly comfortable. He'd never once even let himself dream that he'd be in a situation like this. And he knew he wasn't yet 'one of them' and it would take a long time before he was, if ever, but all the same, he was happy to take what was being offered to him. It was the first time he'd been given something without the giver expecting anything back. Thor still had the potential to shatter his resolve, to break his slowly mending disposition, but he wasn't alone in dealing with Thor, because Tony understood. Tony had told him he could do what he wanted, and that it was_ alright_ to do what he wanted. And what he wanted, honestly, was to stay there, with Tony, with everyone, yes, even with Thor, and just see what happened. He felt no desire to escape or to be elsewhere. He'd been running away for so long it felt wonderful, finally, to find a place he felt at home in enough to stop.

Another programme announced its beginning with a rather inappropriately cheery jingle, and Tony shifted on the seat beside him, lifting him out of his reverie. As all eyes landed on the engineer, he turned and grinned at Loki, asking his question to the room but almost definitely directing it at the god.

''So, I guess I owe you guys a drink, yeah?''

* * *

_Another little note: For page breaks I've started just using the split lines, the X's started annoying me. Hope this doesn't confuse anyone - it means the same!_


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N: AT LAST I AM HERE! Sorry for the delay between posts...I've had the most ridiculously busy week ever, check my tumblr for more info! Anyway, I wrote this last night at stupid o'clock as I'm going to be busy again for the next week or so, so please forgive any grammar errors - I shall edit when I get back! I'm not super happy with how this turned out, but I missed it so much I just HAD to get something down. Enjoy, and I now need to fly off again!_

_What is this life and why do I have it._

_Disclaimer: Not mine. Title from song by Leonard Cohen_

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**Chapter 17. Who By Fire.**

It was three days later, and everyone was still there.

Things still felt a bit weird, but much less so, and to be honest nobody was even sure if it'd ever _stop_ being weird – houseshares involving a narcissistic billionaire genius, two grade A assassins, two Norse gods, a star spangled human time capsule, and a scientist with a penchant to grow to four times his size and turn an alarming shade of green were never really going to fit into a registered demographic. Not that they were technically _in_ a houseshare – nobody had mentioned anything about staying permanently, and it couldn't happen anyway, they all had separate lives to go back to at some point – but as yet none of them had bothered to bring up an ETD (estimated time of departure). In addition, Fury had almost imploded when Tony had ever so casually informed him that his guinea pigs were all currently holed up in his living room, and Tony had been genuinely fearful that his remaining eye was going to pop out with the amount of bulging he'd seen it do over the video feed. In the end, Steve had had to come through and have a nice little chat with the Director, because it seemed everything Tony said was just driving him closer and closer to breaking point; Fury was _not_ someone to take kindly to people arranging things behind his back. Especially not things that involved an entire team of people capable of destroying most sentient things in the known world. Tony figured the thing that angered Fury mostly was that he could see the plan was a good one, and he was pissed off at not suggesting it himself. Then again, that may have just been his ego talking; it was responsible for most of the things that happened in his head after all, and nearly all of those that came out of his mouth. Regardless, somehow, Steve had managed to sweet talk the Director and for now, a group hiatus to Miami was something that had entered the official approved book of SHIELD missions.

The fact that Loki made up one eighth of that group, a ninth when Pepper popped over (she usually organised dinner every night), was something else that was also becoming less weird as every day passed, and Tony was certain it wasn't just him who felt so. Clint was still edgy around the god, which was understandable – he hadn't yet forgiven him for rooting around in his mind – and Natasha was generally as silent and unfathomable as always, but nobody flinched when Loki came in the room, everyone answered each other in polite, almost friendly tones, and Bruce had actually apologised for 'hulking out' on Loki in the penthouse. Steve was acting typically Steve like; which involved maintaining a diplomatically pleasant persona with an undertone of authority and control just peeping through. He was willing to give Loki and Tony the benefit of the doubt, but he wasn't about to slip into domestic bliss; he had his guard up and he was protective, both of his friends and world peace. Which translated, in their situation, to house peace.

Although Tony had been the one to suggest the plan, he surprised even himself at how well it had been received, though he'd never admit that to anyone. Only Thor counted as a slightly unpredictable variable, given that Loki still seemed reluctant to actually make proper amends with him, either through lack of will or ability. Although he_ had_ maintained his silent acquiescence of a few days ago, and willingly tolerated Thor's presence in the same space as himself, even deigning to interact with him when he absolutely had to. Tony caught him staring at Thor a few times when he thought no one else was looking, and it made the billionaire smile to himself – Loki was as stubborn as he was unsure, and until he managed to beat one of those inner demons, he wasn't going to give Thor any rope off his own back. Luckily, Tony can remember being exactly the same, and he can also remember the moment he'd practically lassoed the people he'd been avoiding. Loki would come round, eventually, and Tony could chalk that up in his book of successes as well, inflating his ever growing ego when he did so. Mediator of the gods. He liked that.

Unsurprisingly, Tony remained the one that Loki interacted most with, and as the days went by Tony was getting to see more and more of the Loki that Thor had told him about, the mischievous, sneaky, highly intelligent, smooth talking trickster; and the more Tony glimpsed, the more he knew he would have got along with Loki, in another world, another place, another time. Not in the way they 'got along' now, united mostly by past damage and personality flaws and daddy issues; no, Tony was starting to recognise the other side of Loki that was also very, very similar to himself.

The more Loki spoke, the more Tony wanted to hear him speak; he was fascinated by the way Loki's brain worked when it wasn't controlled by alien monsters or fogged up with guilt and regret and pain. Loki talked in language that ignited curiosity in Tony; he recognised the wit and genius lying so close to the surface – the god had a certain power over words, he knew just what to say, what inference to hint at, what emphasis to place; either to attract or fend off attention, spark or finish a debate, impress or hide under the radar. Tony had noticed recurrent 'looks' from other members of the team at times when Loki was particularly vocal, word sparring or even just talking with the billionaire, and he fancied there was something searching in their looks, something puzzled and apprehensive. He ignored them though, much the same way he ignored the part of his own head that seemed to escape and look at him too, forcing him to watch himself have a _conversation_ with _Loki_ that was scarily close to _friendly_ and _familial._ He told himself nobody had anything to stare at; he was doing it for _Loki's_ sake, for the greater good, he was helping Loki, helping Thor, helping _all of them _by introducing Loki to a little bit of humanity.

_Loki's sake_.

Because he had enough friends already, did he not? He could flirt with Pepper, banter with Steve (although most of the 'banter' came at the Cap's expense, which _was_ just as fun, but in a different kind of way), discuss sciency stuff with Bruce and word spar with Clint when he got too grouchy from being kept apart from his arrows for too long. They didn't look at him funny then, did they? So what if he generally ended up talking to Loki more than doing any of these?

Loki had also taken to following Tony down to his workshop, something that Tony had expressively forbidden before – but now, given the influx of people to the house, he figured Loki probably needed a place other than his bedroom where he could go to escape the others when Tony wasn't around. And if Tony wasn't around, it meant he was in the workshop, so it made sense for Loki to be there too. And Tony actually enjoyed having the company at times, Loki was extremely intelligent and seemed to understand most things that came under his vision after the merest cursory glance; Tony was almost jealous. Even better, although he'd suggested it half jokingly that time in the kitchen, Loki actually seemed to want to indulge Tony by offering him advice and suggestions; and by explaining to him the number of ways in which Tony's formulas and equations and codes weren't really all that different from his own incantations and spells and gestures – all were instructions, reliant on forces and reactions, just manifested in different ways. Tony was fascinated and he didn't care if he showed it; he was like a little kid learning something new, and learning something new had always been one of his favourite things to do. The little flare of excitement that blossomed in his chest whenever he got something to work because of something Loki said was like a drug, addictive and inspiring, and over the last few days Tony had made more advancements in his work than he had for the last fortnight or so. In addition to this increased level of productivity, Tony enjoyed the background chatter that came with Loki's presence, whether it be a serious discussion about technology and force fields and magnets and power, or brief banter about the others. Loki had the same wicked sense of humour as Tony, and the more Tony coaxed it, the more it started showing naturally, and less and less of the shattered and tired Loki that Tony had arrived at the house with managed to show through.

They were in the workroom now, although it was hours and hours after dinner, and everyone else in the entire state was probably and sensibly asleep, but Tony was working on his new project – a holographic image projector communication system – and hence had inevitably forgotten that humans need to do things like sleep and rest and switch off now and again. What with everyone around all the time, not attending their usual day to day activities wherever the hell _they_ might be, and Fury wanting even more regular feed updates, and Pepper living over at the villa, Tony had come up with the idea of creating a machine that scanned in your physical likeness and then transported it wherever you needed to be, making it so much easier and quieter for everyone to conduct their business conversations and whatnot without having to jam up the phone and video feeds in his house. Loki, being such an expert in actual physical body transportation and teleportation, was an actual godsend – _ha, no pun intended_ – in helping with the design and coding of the particles needed to be processed by the machine, and the two of them had been shut up in the workshop all day, breaking only for fajitas earlier in the evening at Peppers insistence. They'd been working side by side for the majority of the time, and Tony had almost forgotten that this was Loki, that this time last week this would have been laughable; he fitted into Tony's inventor life even easier than Bruce did, as if he'd always been around, as if he'd never been the villain and never gone batshit crazy on all their asses.

Swearing at a particularly problematic bit of code – Tony had managed to program a live voice projection, but so far, no pixels of the hologram were willing to follow it – he stood back from his desk and kicked at a rogue blueprint on the floor, bending to pick it up to see if it contained the hidden mysteries of the universe he was so desperately seeking.

''Seriously Loki, can you not just, like, zap your power into the machine here and have it construct a me? I've scanned me in so much, I know I'm in there somewhere. Damn pixels just won't assemble and I'm getting sick of them; I don't think I look my best when I'm made up of millions of mismatched holographic squares''.

Loki gave a wry smile, even though Tony, still bent over his retrieved scribbling, didn't see.

''As I've said before, a number of times, as I recall - my magic would blow up that machine, it's far too powerful. Things made by your science can only contain your science, all I can do is offer my help in getting it to mimic my magic''.

''Damn fucks sake''. Tony cursed again and waved the piece of paper around, moving over to a StarkScreen. Pulling up various tabs of numbers and algorithms and interconnected dots and shapes and arrows, he cross referenced them with what he had written down, pulling at various parts of the screen, minimizing and maximising and moving things around in a mini-frenzy.

''I just don't fucking know why my image won't transpose. I must be missing something, a command, a key, somewhere…''

Loki would never tell Tony this, even on pain of death, but he enjoyed listening to the mans mumblings and enjoyed watching his expression change when he went off in his own world of invention and creation; he enjoyed seeing the familiar glaze that covered Tony's eyes and the sparks that followed. It was how he himself felt when he was learning, reading, practising, drinking in knowledge.

Running a hand through his hair in frustration, Tony bit his lip; while chewing he seemed to come to some sort of resigned conclusion.

''Right, I'm getting sick of staring at myself. I know, I know, I never thought I'd say that either. But I want to know if the problem is anything to do with my arc reactor messing up the scan data… I need another body to test. I'll have to do you. Go stand over there, by that probe.''

Looking up as he finished talking, Tony caught Loki staring at him, nonplussed and not moving. He sighed. ''It won't hurt, you watched me do it earlier. Go on, I need another sample, and I'm not waking any of the others up. It'll take two seconds.''

Loki continued to just stare at him; figuring he was missing something – because really, he hadn't exactly asked Loki to strip naked and do a dance now, had he? – he inclined his head in a questioning way, as if to say _what, come on, just get over there!_

Loki let a small smile curl at his lips, not a malicious one, more mildly amused. ''Have you forgotten who I am, Tony? If you think if your arc reactor causes the machine to mess up, how do you propose it will process my magic? Besides, I'm not even technically human…am I really the best trial dummy?''

Nonetheless impressed at Loki's logic, Tony was too tired and frustrated and buzzing with impatience to care.

''I don't know, probably, maybe, we'll see anyway, if there is a problem then it points even more at artificial energy being the reason for our dead ends, so no harm done either way really – just go and get probed, yeah? Humour me.''

Tony's eyes were smirking despite the fact that his voice remained on the exhausted side of disheartened, of all the things he was, 'mature' probably found itself pretty far down the list. Accidental innuendo was the best kind of innuendo.

Clearly the accidental innuendo hadn't escaped Loki either, for the god raised his eyebrows in reply and crossed his arms, a shadow of a laugh playing at his lips.

''You wish to probe me Stark? No wonder you didn't want to wake the others…although I do hope humour isn't the sole reason you make that particular requests of people. Might be seen as offensive by some, to laugh during such a…ahh…_compromising_ situation.''

Smirking properly now, Tony pointed at the probe attached to the newly built scanner a few feet away, and made a shooing motion at Loki.

''Get. Now. And be thankful I don't need you to be naked.''

Tony watched Loki move over into the space next to the probe machine ready to be scanned, almost trembling with excitement. He didn't just want to use Loki as a second prototype, if he simply needed one of those, he could have called up to Natasha or Clint or Pepper; he wanted it to be Loki because it was an excuse to use him, to examine him, to have the god connected with his experiments, however simple they happened to be. Tony wanted to study Loki, to learn about him, see what was underneath the exterior, both physical and personality wise. He wanted to see what made Loki tick, what made his magic work, how he did things, how he thought things, what he thought, what he understood, how he understood it. Every single dimension and facet and layer of Loki fascinated Tony, and he wanted to be the one to see it all, piece by piece, unravelling the alien from other planet, another world, another life. Loki was a piece of science, and Tony always liked to have the biggest and the best. He always wanted to be first, to be cleverest, to have the most exciting ideas. Scanning Loki for use in a telecommunications device wasn't exactly going to be groundbreaking, it wouldn't turn Tony into the next Einstein or Fleming, but it was a start. Loki might not have been aware of Tony's desperation to analyse _him_, not just his magic, and if he had been, he probably wouldn't have agreed – but for now, Tony had Loki right where he'd been wanting him, and _no there is no fucking innuendo there, for once, goddamn it brain, did I give you permission to be 14 years old again?_

Swiping a few files around on the screen in front of him before pushing some buttons and pulling a lever, Tony caught Loki's eye, about to issue that would begin the body full body scan.

''You ready?''

''As I'll ever be, Stark. Hit me. But be gentle.'' Loki answered in a relaxed drawl and his mouth slightly turned up as he spoke the final words, clearly gods weren't also above really bad smutty humour.

''Any way you like it, protégé''.

If Loki was a woman, and they was in any other situation, Tony would definitely have classed this as flirting, but it wasn't and so he didn't. Instead, he ignored Loki's look of obvious indignation at being classed as anyone's 'protégé' and flicked a switch in the bottom corner of the screen he was stood beside, watching as a blue light burst into life somewhere above Loki's head, and a plume of blue light seemed to fall almost like rain, forming a dome of miniscule virtual dots around the god. Illuminated by the light, Loki's skin seemed even more pale than usual, glowing an eerily translucent shade of light blue; the dots also reflected in is irises, combing with brilliant green to give a shocking shade of ultramarine. Tony gasped despite himself, not just at the fact that the scanner seemed to be working and not blowing up on immediate connection with Loki's non-human form, but with pure surprise at just how stunning the contrast of colours was inside the dome, the contrast that was the different parts of Loki's body reacting to the piercing glare of the lasers. Realising a second later that he'd actually just connected _Loki_ with _stunning_, he cleared his throat and tore his gaze away – the light was getting too bright anyway – and focussed on the image that was slowly developing on his screen, the image that was the spitting likeness of Loki, albeit scaled down to roughly a tenth of his size. However, the image also seemed to be glowing, it was shining almost as bright as the real thing, positively burning with colour and pixels in a way that Tony's image didn't. Was this the imprint of Loki's magic, or was Loki always this shiny in photographs? It was a breathtaking picture, mesmerizing, and Tony felt himself staring whilst trying to keep the fact that he was doing so hidden from the real object of his attention standing not two feet from him.

As the machine finished the scan, filling in Loki's feet, the blue dome disappeared and real-Loki's skin and eyes turned back to their normal colour. The image, however, continued to radiate light, and it didn't seem to be causing the machine any adverse effects by being inside it, at least not yet. Tony typed in a few codes and assigned Loki's name to his likeness before giving him a personal number, storing 'Loki – God of Mischief' to 'Available Contacts - #02'. Swivelling the screen round to show Loki, Tony tried not to let his bubbling overexcitement spill over into voice; he tended to get very 'child at an adventure playground' when something he did worked the way he wanted it to.

''Now I've got you, see. It worked! I think…Well, we'll see if we can get this image to project back out of the database again, and carry your voice and stuff, but I think it will, it's a much stronger representation than the one of me, and there's no pixels missing!'' Tony aimed a high five at Loki; realised mid way that Asgardians probably didn't go in for those, failed to retract his arm properly, and ended up kind of brushing down Loki's arm with his fingertips, not in a soft or meaningful way but in a _'err sorry I did not engage motor neurones quick enough no I don't know what I'm doing either don't worry I'll stop in a second'_ kind of way.

Even so. Ok. Right. He'd pretty much just _stroked_ Loki. Loki looked as surprised as Tony, firstly to find himself not on the receiving end of a slap (high five declarations tend to look pretty menacing to those unfamiliar with them) and then at having the other man paw all the was down his arm, seemingly without warning or purpose or intent. Shoving the screen in Loki's face, Tony tried to cover up the awkwardness as fast as possible, ignoring how cold and smooth Loki's skin had been and how, strangely, it seemed to have left a ticklish heat sensation on the tips of his fingers.

Loki raised an eyebrow at the screen, surprisingly impressed with what he saw; it was like watching a mini Loki spin 360 degrees on the spot. The image looked solid enough, it was his perfect likeness, it even seemed to radiate his mildly amused facial expression he remembered having as he noticed the look Tony was giving him when he'd been inside the lights. It was a faint ghost of his real smile, a smile he'd inexplicably wanted to repeat just a second ago when he'd felt Tony's touch, gentle and unassuming and awkward on his skin

A shiver ran down Loki's lower arm at the same time Tony curled his fist up into a ball. Both of them noticed the other's movements.

As both men stared at the little Loki, both wondered what the hell had just happened, if anything had actually happened at all, what the hell they were thinking, what the hell they thought the other one must be thinking, and why they were even thinking about it if they weren't even sure what the thing was or even if it had happened at all.

Loki also thought about the last time he'd thought about thinking in such a way. He couldn't remember.

Tony could remember. The ticklish heat sensation suddenly burned like fire.


End file.
